LIBRARY 

BV   4900    .S55    1852 

Smyth,  Thomas,  1808-1873. 

Solace  for  bereaved  parents 


The  John  HI.  Krebs  Donation. 


=»=5»^ 


/^ 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS 


INFANTS    DIE    TO    LIVE 


WITH   AN    HISTORICAL   ACCOUNT   OK 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  INFANT  SALVATION, 


VERY  FULL  SELECTIONS  FROM  VARIOUS  AUTHORS, 


PROSE    AND    POETRY. 


/ 


BY  TKE  REV.  THOMAS  SMYTH,  D.D. 


The  dead, 
The  only  beautiful,  who  change  no  more ; 
The  only  blest ;  the  dwellers  on  the  shore 
Of  Spring  fulfilled.    The  dead  I— whom  call  we  so? 
They  that  breathe  purer  air,  that  feel,  that  know, 
Things  wrapt  from  us. 

HEMANS. 


NEW   YORK: 

ROBERT  CARTER,   58  CANAL   STREET, 
AND  PITTSBURG,  56  MARKET  STREET. 

1852. 


Entered,  accordins^  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846, 

BY    ROBERT    CARTER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States 

for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


THIS     VOLUME 

IS     DEDICATED     TO     MY     DEAR     AUNT, 

MRS.  M.  M.  MAGEE, 

OF    DUBLIN,    IRELAND, 

AS    A    TRIBUTE    OF    GRATEFUL    AFFECTION  ; 

AND    ALSO    AS    AN    EXPRESSION    OF    HIGH    ADMIRATION 

FOR    THAT    CHRISTIAN    HOPE    AND    PATIENCE 

WHICH,    BY    DIVINE    GRACE,    SHE    HAS    SO    TRIUMPHANTLY 

DISPLAYED    UNDER    MANIFOLD    TRIALS, 

AND  WHICH  STILL  ENABLE  HER  TO  GO  ON  HER  WAY  REJOICING, 

IN  THE  GLORIOUS  ANTICIPATION  OF 

A    HAPPY    REUNIOxN     IN    THAT    BLESSED    WORLD 

WHERE    DEATH    SHALL    BE    SWALLOWED   UP 

IN    EVERLASTING    LIFE, 

AND  ITS  CURSE,  AND  ITS  SORROW  BE  FOR  EVER  DONE  AWAY. 


VI  PREFACE. 

Christian  brethren  of  other  denominations,  that  in  holding  Calvinistic 
doctrines,  we  do  not  hold  their  views  of  what  these  doctrines  teach,  nor 
those  awful  consequences  which,  in  their  conception  of  them,  these  doc- 
trines imply.  I  hope,  therefore,  that  this  exhibition  of  the  real  nature 
and  tendency  of  Calvinism  will  serve  to  put  down  misrepresentations ; 
to  remove  prejudices ;  and  to  draw  nearer  together,  in  the  bonds  of 
charity  and  good-will,  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — "both 
THEIRS  AND  ouRs" — in  sincerity  and  truth,  and  who  trust  in  the  word  of 
God  only,  in  the  grace  of  Christ  only,  and  in  the  sanctifying  influences 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  only.  The  Trinity  of  the  one  immutable  Godhead, 
as  the  source  of  salvation,  of  grace,  and  of  power — the  author,  finisher, 
and  imparter  of  eternal  life — this  is  the  grand  platform  on  which  all  true 
Christians  can  meet,  sympathize,  hope,  rejoice,  and  triumph.  May  we 
all  "  stand  fast"  in  this  faith,  and  "  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the 
bonds  of"  a  more  open,  more  visible,  and  more  ccnsoHdating  "  peace." 

Not  with  mistrusting  heart,  or  anxious  brow. 

My  little  book,  I  send  thee  forth  again — 

So  thou  the  suffrage  of  the  good  obtain, 
I  seek  not  what  the  worldling  can  bestow, 
Of  perishable  praise — enough  to  know 

That  at  the  lonely  couch  of  grief  or  pain, 

Thy  simple  page  one  passing  smile  may  gain, 
Or  kindle  in  the  breast  devotion's  glow. 
Yet,  shouldst  thou  find  a  place  in  blissful  bower, 

'Midst  happy  hearts,  unthinking  of  their  doom, 
In  the  fond  trust  of  that  delusive  hour, 

O  whisper  to  them  of  the  coming  gloom  , 
And  tell  them  of  the  faith  whose  mighty  power 
Can  light  the  dreary  precincts  of  the  tomb. 

THE  AUTHOR 

Charleston,  Dec.  1845. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Address  to  a  Bereaved  Parent 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

An  Historical  Account  of  the  Doctrine  of  Infant  Salvation,  wherein 
it  is  shown  that  it  was  first  advocated  and  received  by  Calvinists, 
and  based  upon  Calvinistic  Doctrines,  including  quotations  from, 
or  references  to,  the  following  Calvinistic  writers, — Zuinglius,  Cal- 
vin, Tyndale,  (and  other  reformers  or  successors  of,)  Perkins,  Cot- 
ton Mather,  Harris,  Toplady,  Dr.  Williams,  Scott,  Newton,  Dr. 
Gill,  Pictet,  Whitefield,  Watts,  Addington,  Robert  Hall,  Howe,  Dr. 
Lawson,  the  Lime  St.  Lectures,  the  National  Covenant,  the  Con- 
fession of  Faith,  Dr.  Jarkin,  Dr.  Cumming,  Dr.  Russell,  &c.       .       13 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  necessity  for  discussing  the  Doctrine  of  the  Salvation  of  Infants    47 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Children  are  taken  away  in  Infancy  in  Mercy  to  them  ...      59 

CHAPTER  V. 
Children  are  taken  away  m  Infancy  for  the  Benefit  of  the  Living  .      99 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Selections  in  Prose  confirmatory  and  illustrative  of  the  preceding 
Views  from  Charlotte  Elizabeth,  Rev.  H.  Mowes,  Evangelical 
Magazine,  Dr.  Watts,  Dr.  Doddridge,  Dr.  Mason,  Robert  Hall, 
Erskine,  Flavel,  Dr.  Chalmers,  Dr.  Henry,  Ramanoojooloo,  &c.  .    132 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAOB 

Shorter  Selections  in  Prose,  adapted  to  be  read  at  short  intervals, 
from  Oliver  llcywood,  Scott,  Fenelon,  and  miiny  Authors,  with 
some  very  interesting  and  striking  anecdotes  illustrative  of  the  tri- 
umph of  Christian  t'\'\ith  under  such  bereavements     .         .         .     165 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Selections  in  Poctjv  205 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

ADDRESS  TO  A  BEREAVED  PARENT 


Bid  gentle  patience  smile  on  pain 
Till  dying  hope  revive  again ; 
Hope  wipes  the  tear  from  sorrow's  eye, 
And  faith  points  upward  to  the  sky. 

Steele. 


My  Dear  Reader, 

This  work  is  addressed  to  you  as  a  bereaved 
Parent.  God  has  given  you  a  child  whom  you  dearly 
loved,  and  God  has  taken  that  child  away.  He  has 
"  strickened  the  desire  of  your  eyes,"  and  "  wounded 
you  sore."  Like  Rachel  you  weep  for  your  departed 
3hild,  and  "  refuse  to  be  comforted  because  it  is  not." 

Your  grief,  my  dear  friend,  is  natural,  for  your  afflic- 
tion is  great.  Your  heart  is  left  lonely  and  desolate. 
Its  strings  are  broken.  That  joy  which  had  swallowed 
up  all  remembrance  of  the  hours  of  solicitude  and  paiu^ 
is  now  turned  into  melancholy  sadness.  That  current 
of  affection  and  gladness  which  had  flowed  out  upon 
the  object  of  your  regard  is  turned  back  upon  the  soul 
— its  channels  are  dried  up,  and  its  fountain  gone. 
The  grief  of  a  bereaved  parent  can  only  be  known  by 
those  who  have  endured  it.  Of  this  it  may  be  truly 
said,  "  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness  and  a 
stranger  intermeddleth  not  with  it."  There  are  aus- 
ceptibilities  in  man  which  are  only  developed  by  aa 


10       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

entrance  upon  tlie  relation  of  parent.  The  individual 
who  has  never  become  a  Father  or  a  Mother,  has 
never  felt  the  most  powerful  of  human  emotions.  He 
is  a  stranger  to  that  joy  which  seems  to  fill  the  heart 
to  overflowing  ;  and  to  that  outgoing  of  the  soul  which 
identifies  the  parent  with  his  child,  absorbs  all  selfish 
regards,  and  inspires  a  willingness  to  endure  all  things 
for  the  sake  of  his  beloved  offspring. 

Who  then  can  truly  sympathize  with  parents  in 
their  joys  or  sorrows,  but  he  who  has  been  himself  a 
parent?  An  old  writer  has  quaintly  remarked, — as  il- 
lustrative of  the  adaptation  of  Christ,  by  the  endurance 
of  human  misery,  for  his  present  office  of  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man, — that  were  his  hmb  broken  he 
should  desire  to  have  it  set  by  a  physician  who  had 
himself  experienced  a  similar  calamity.  Sure  it  is 
that  the  wounded  heart  of  a  bereaved  parent  can  only 
be  bound  up  by  one  whose  own  heart  has  been  in  like 
manner  torn,  and  who  can  sincerely  weep  with  him 
who  weeps  over  the  grave  of  his  buried  offspring. 

Young  mother  !  what  can  feeble  friendship  say. 
To  soothe  the  anguish  of  this  mournful  day  ? 
They,  they  alone,  whose  hearts  like  thine  have  bled, 
Know  how  the  living  sorrow  for  the  dead ; 
Each  tutored  voice,  that  seeks  such  grief  to  cheer, 
Strikes  cold  upon  the  weeping  parent's  ear ; 
I  've  felt  it  all, — alas !   too  well  I  know 
How  vain  all  earthly  power  to  hush  thy  woe ! 
God  cheer  thee,  childless  mother !  't  is  not  given 
For  man  to  ward  the  blow  that  falls  from  heaven. 

I  've  felt  it  all — as  thou  art  feeling  now ; 
Like  thee,  with  stricken  heart  and  aching  brow, 
I  've  sat  and  watched  by  dying  beauty's  bed, 
And  burning  tears  of  hopeless  anguish  shed ; 
I  've  gazed  upon  the  sweet,  but  pallid  face, 
..  And  vainly  tried  some  comfort  there  to  trace ; 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  11 

I  've  listened  to  the  short  and  struggling  breath ; 
I  've  seen  the  cherub  eye  grow  dim  in  death ; 
Like  thee,  I  've  veiled  my  head  in  speechless  gloom, 
And  laid  my  first-born  in  the  silent  tomb. 

It  is  on  this  account  I  would  venture  to  intrude  my 
thoughts  upon  your  present  solitude,  and  whisper 
words  of  consolation  to  that  ear  which  can  never  more 
hear  the  infant  voice  now  silent  in  death.  Like  you, 
my  friend,  I  have  been  called  to  witness  the  unexpect- 
ed departure  of  my  children.  Two  of  them  I  commit- 
ted to  the  same  grave,  where  they  sleep  the  sleep  of 
death.  They  were  growing  up  together  like  two 
young  flowers,  which  had  intertwined  their  tendrils, 
and  mingled  their  sweet  fragrance,  but  which  were 
suddenly  withered  by  the  same  rude  blast.  Like 
them,  these  children  were  lovely  in  their  lives,  and  in 
death  they  were  not  divided.  The  same  storm  over- 
whelmed them  both.  They  lie,  as  it  were,  arm  in  arm, 
and  side  by  side,  in  the  same  deep  and  narrow  bed  of 
earth,  until  they  awake  in  the  morning  of  the  resur- 
rection. Nor  do  they  lie  alone,  their  narrow  bed  has 
been  uncovered  to  receive  another  sleeper,  the  victim 
of  a  similar  malady,  whose  sun  of  brightest  promise 
went  down  while  my  heart  was  still  rejoicing  in  the 
beauty  of  its  day-spring. 

It  was  when  tossed  upon  that  sea  of  trouble  in 
which  these  sudden  visitations  involved  me,  I  was  led 
to  the  full  investigation  of  the  question  of  the  salvation 
of  infants.  That  examination  more  than  confirmed 
my  hopes.  It  strengthened  them  into  a  comforta- 
ble ASSURANCE  THAT  IN  THE  DEATH  OF  INFANTS, 
IT    IS  WELL    WITH    THEM,    AND  WELL    WITH    THEIR 

PARENTS — that  God's  purposes  are  merciful  to  both — 
and  that  while  he  glorifies  himself  in  the  exaltation  of 
the  children  to  heaven,  he  would  also  secure  by  such 


12  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

afflictions  the  sanctification  and  the  salvation  of  their 
parents. 

You  will,  therefore^  allow  me  to  present  to  your 
mind,  in  substance,  some  of  those  considerations  by 
which  I  have  been  myself  comforted  of  God,  and 
through  which  you  may  also,  by  His  blessing,  obtain 
"  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and  the 
garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness,"  and  en- 
able you  to  believe  that  the  tide  of  death,  whose  rece- 
ding waves  withdrew  the  desire  of  your  eyes  for  ever 
from  your  sight,  "  like  waifs  flung  for  a  season  upon 
the  shores  of  this  world,"  has  only  borne  them  back 
again  upon  ^'  the  eternal  sea  which  washes  the  throne 
of  God." 

Of  one  thing  be  very  sure :  "  God  does  nothing  with- 
out a  reason.  That  reason  may  have  respect  to  you — 
it  may  have  respect  to  your  child,  and  not  unlikely  to 
both.  He  sees  effects  in  their  causes.  Your  case  may 
have  been  this  :  you  may  have  been  in  danger  of  lov- 
ing the  world  too  much,  and  he  removed  the  cause  in 
time.  Its  case  may  have  been  this  :  it  may  have  been 
in  danger  from  the  growth  of  a  corrupt  nature,  and  he 
took  it  in  the  bud  of  being  that  it  might  grow  without 
imperfection,  '  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.' 
Think  of  your  child  then  not  as  dead  but  as  Hving, 
not  as  a  flower  that  is  withered,  but  as  one  that  is 
transplanted,  and,  touched  by  a  divine  hand,  is  bloom- 
ing in  richer  colours  and  sweeter  shades  than  those  of 
earth,  though  to  your  eyes  these  last  may  have  been 
beautiful,  more  beautiful  than  you  will  hope  to  see 
again. 

"  *  With  patient  mind  thy  course  of  duty  run, 
God  nothing  does,  nor  suffers  to  be  done, 
But  thou  wouldst  do  thyself,  if  thou  couldst  see 
The  end  of  all  he  does  as  well  as  he.' " 


CHAPTER  II. 


WHEREIN  IT  IS  SHOWN  THAT  IT  WAS  FIRST  ADVOCATED  AND 
RECEIVED  BY  CALVINISTS,  AND  BASED  UPON  CALVINISTIC  DOC- 
TRINES. 


I  stood  beside  a  death-bed  scene,  a  mother  bent  and  wept, 

But  deep  within  her  breaking  heart,  a  deathless  faith  she  kept : 

She  gazed  upon  her  little  one,  so  beautiful  and  still. 

And  humbly  tried  to  yield  him  up  unto  her  Maker's  will : 

She  bent  and  kissed  his  pallid  brow,  she  joined  her  hands  in  prayer. 

And  then  I  knew  the  Christian's  hope  had  surely  entered  there. 


When  I  was  led  to  the  investigation  of  this  subject, 
nothing  surprised  me  more  than  the  difficulty  with 
which  I  could  then*  find  any  thing  adapted  to  my  in- 
quiries. Witli  very  ample  resources,  I  could  discover 
but  little  in  the  form  of  direct  discussion,  on  this  most 
interesting  subject.  It  is  certainly  strange,  that  while 
works  of  consolation  and  advice  had  been  prepared  for 
almost  every  other  class  of  mourners  in  Zion,  bereaved 
parents  were  left  to  comfort  themselves  by  those  gen- 
eral considerations  only,  which  leave  their  peculiar  sor- 
rows unalleviated. 

With  very  diligent  search  I  have  procured  an  Essay 
on  this  subject  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Gillard,  pub- 
lished in  London  in  1787  ;  a  similar  Essay,  entitled 
Grounds  of  Hope  for  the  Salvation  of  all  dying  in  In- 
fancy, by  the  Rev.  William  Harris,  LL.D.,  pub- 
lished in  London  in  1821 ;  An  Essay  on  the  Salvation 

•  Since  then  many  things  in  prose  and  poetry  have  been  written. 

2 


14       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

of  all  dying  in  Infancy,  by  the  Rev.  David  Russell 
of  Dundee,  published  in  Edinburgh  in  1823  ;*  a  little 
volume  addressed  to  Bereaved  Parents,  by  John 
Thornton,  published  in  London  in  1831 ;  a  Sermon, 
by  the  late  Dr.  Henry  ;  and  two  others,  on  the  death 
of  their  children,  by  Dr.  Doddridge,  and  Dr.  Cotton 
Mather.  Besides  these,  I  found  only  some  scattered 
hints  in  various  volumes.t 

From  an  examination  of  all  these,  T  matured  that 
opinion  I  have  embodied  in  the  following  chapters, 
the  substance  of  which  was  delivered  in  discourses  to 
my  people.  Their  earnest  wishes  induced  me  to  pre- 
pare them  for  the  press.  Some  work  of  the  kind  is 
imperatively  demanded.  Almost  all  parents  are  called 
to  endure  the  loss  of  children,  and  to  feel  the  need  of 
such  a  comforter.  Within  a  few  months,  I  have  com- 
mitted to  the  grave  thirteen  children,  from  within  the 
bounds  of  my  official  ministration.  Now  there  is  no 
work  to  which  such  parents  can  have  access,  for  of  all 
those  enumerated  above,  I  may  say,  they  are  printed 
in  England  ;  they  are  rare,  and  therefore  inaccessible. 
Besides,  even  when  parents  may  have  a  general  per- 
suasion of  the  safety  of  departed  infants,  yet,  when 
such  a  belief  is  not  founded  on  a  firm  and  clearly  es- 
tablished conviction  of  its  truth,  it  will  give  way  be- 
fore the  flood  of  sorrow,  and  fail  to  support  in  the  hour 
of  need.  Just  as  men  sport  with  death  till  called 
themselves  to  grapple  with  its  terrors,  so  may  men 
think  lightly  of  the  trial  of  a  bereaved  parent,  until 
they  stand  by  the  bedside  of  their  own  dying  child. 

*  This  is  a  most  full  and  satisfactory  work,  and  fully  answers  every 
objection. 

t  The  only  other  treatise  on  this  subject  then  known  to  the  author, 
besides  one  by  Mosheim,  a  Lutheran,  is  by  Dr.  Williams.  I  believe 
the  same  who  advocated  the  cause  of  Modern  Calvinism)  and  answer- 
ed Whitby. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.        16 

But  then  will  they  earnestly  look  for  any  hght  which 
may  irradiate  their  darkness,  calm  their  fears,  and  as- 
suage their  grief  A  writer  in  an  English  magazine, 
speakmg  of  the  death  of  very  young  children,  thus 
beautifully  remarks  : — "  The  soul  of  the  cherub  child, 
that  dies  on  its  mother's  breast,  wings  its  way  to  heav- 
en, unconscious  of  the  joys  it  might  share  here,  as  well 
as  of  the  many,  many  miseries  of  which  it  might  be 
partaker.  This  can  hardly  be  called  death.  It  is  but 
the  calm,  soft  ebbing  of  the  gentle  tide  of  life,  to  flow 
no  more  in  the  troubled  ocean  of  existence :  it  is  but 
the  removal  of  a  fair  creature — '  too  pure  for  earthly 
stay' — to  make  one  of  that  bright  band  of  cherubim 
which  encompasses  in  glory  and  in  joy  the  throne  of 
the  living  God." 

I  But  glorious  as  the  change  may  be  to  the  little  one, 
it  is  hard  for  the  mother  to  part  thus  early  with  her 
fair-haired  innocent — to  break  off  all  the  delightful  ties 
of  prattling  tenderness  that  had  bound  her  even  in  a 
few  months,  to  that  gentle  form  forever —  ? 

'Tis  hard  to  lay  her  darling 

Deep  in  the  cold,  damp  earth — 
His  empty  crib  to  see. 
His  silent  nursery, 

Once  gladsome  with  his  mirth. 

To  meet  again  in  slumber 

His  small  mouth's  rosy  kiss ; 
Then,  wakened  with  a  start 
By  her  own  throbbing  heart, 

His  twining  arms  to  miss  ! 

To  feel  (half  conscious  why) 

A  dull,  heart-sinking  weight, 
Till  mem'ry  on  her  soul 
Flashes  the  painful  whole, 

That  she  is  desolate  ! 


16       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

And  llien  to  lie  and  weep, 

And  think  the  live-long  night 
(Feeding  her  own  distress 
With  accurate  greediness) 

Of  every  past  delight ; — 

Of  all  his  winning  ways. 

His  pretty  playful  smiles, 
His  joy,  his  ecstacy, 
His  tricks,  his  mimicry, 

And  all  his  little  wiles ! 

Oh  !  these  are  recollections 

Round  mothers'  hearts  that  cling — 

That  mingle  with  the  tears 

And  smiles  of  after  years. 
With  oft  awakening ! 

That  this  little  volume  therefore  may  be  rendered  as 
satisfactory  as  possible,  it  will  be  proper  to  give  some 
historical  accomit  of  the  views  entertained  at  different 
periods  of  the  church  on  the  subject  of  the  salvation 
of  infants.  This  will  show  the  necessity  for  its  present 
and  thorough  investigation ;  and  at  the  same  time  ex- 
pose the  groundlessness  with  which  a  belief  in  the  fu- 
ture loss  or  damnation  of  infants  has  been  charged 
upon  Calvinists,  and  upon  Presbyterians,  as  a  doctrine 
peculiar  to  them,  or  involved  in  their  system  of  belief. 

Among  the  Jews,  the  hope  of  salvation  seems  to 
have  been  confined  to  themselves,  and  to  their  children 
who  had  received  circumcision.  "  They  imagined  that 
the  law  of  Moses  made  the  very  infants  of  the  Gentiles 
be  treated  as  sinners  and  hateful  to  God,  because  they 
were  uncircumcised,  and  descended  from  uncircumci- 
sed  parents.  They  of  course  imagined  that  all  their 
own  children  were  saved,  and  that  all  those  of  the 
Gentiles  perished.  It  is  partly  on  this  account  that 
the  apostle,  after  mentioning  the  universal  reign  of 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  17 

death  from  Adam  to  Moses,  distinctly  adds,  that  it 
came  upon  infants,  as  well  as  upon  adults,  without  dis- 
tinction of  Jew  and  Gentile ;  and  then  shows  that  in- 
fants, whether  they  descend  from  Gentiles  or  Jews,  are 
treated  as  sinners,  not  by  virtue  of  the  law  of  Moses, 
but  in  consequence  of  the  sin  of  Adam,  the  common 
father  of  the  human  race." 

A  corresponding  faith  was  early  developed  in  the 
Christian  Church.  Erroneous  views  of  baptism,  as  in 
itself  communicative  of  regeneration,  led  to  the  belief 
of  its  absolute  necessity  in  order  to  salvation.  Of 
course,  those  who  failed  to  enjoy  the  benefits  of  this  or- 
dinance were  believed  to  be  excluded  from  all  participa- 
tion in  the  benefits  of  that  gospel,  with  which  it  was  so 
essentially  connected.  And  hence  it  was  supposed  that 
the  children  even  of  christian  parents  who  were  not 
baptized,  as  well  as  all  others  in  the  same  unfortunate 
condition,  were  cast,  with  unbelievers,  into  hell  for 
ever ;  or,  at  least,  excluded  from  the  divine  presence, 
and  the  blessedness  of  heaven. 

This  opinion  prevailed  generally  in  the  Church  un- 
til after  the  Reformation.  It  was  the  opinion  of  Au- 
gustine, of  Gregory,  Ariminiensis,  Driedd,  Luther,  Me- 
lanchthon,  Tilmanus,  Heshusius,  "  who  have  all  fallen 
into  the  worst  of  St.  Austin's  opinion,  and  sentence 
poor  infants  to  the  flames  of  hell  for  original  sin,  if 
they  die  before  baptism."*  •'  The  Catholic  faith," 
says  Augustine,  "  resting  on  divine  authority,  believes 
the  first  place  to  be  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  whence 
THE  UNBAPTizED  ARE  EXCLUDED  ;  and  the  sccoud 
Hell,  where  every  apostate  and  alien  from  the  faith  of 
Christ  will  experience  eternal  punishments.  A  third 
place  we  are  wholly  ignorant  of,  nor  shall  we  find  it  in 

*  See  Jer.  Taylor'^  Works,  vol.  9.  p.  Iii9. 
9* 


18  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.   . 

the  Scriptures."*  The  decree  of  the  Council  of  Trent, 
by  which  it  is  determined  that  "  whosoever  shall  affirm 
that  baptism  is  indifferent,  that  is,  not  necessary  to 
SALVATION,  let  him  be  accursed,"  is  still  binding  on 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church :  for  their  catechism  also 
teaches  that  children,  "be  their  parents  christians  or 
infidels,  unless  regenerated  by  the  grace  op 

BAPTISM,  ARE  BORN  TO  ETERNAL  MISERY  AND  EV- 
ERLASTING DESTRucTioN."t  "  Nothing,"  says  the 
Council  of  Trent,  "  can  be  apparently  more  necessary, 
than  that  the  faithful  should  be  taught,  that  the  law 
of  baptism  was  ordained  by  the  Lord  for  all  men  ;  so 
that  unless  they  he  regenerated  hy  God,  through  the 
grace  of  baptism,  they  are  begotten  by  their  parents, 
be  they  believers,  or  unbelievers,  to  everlasting  mise- 
ry and  perditionyX  "  No  other  means  of  salvation,^' 
adds  the  Catechism,  "  is  supplied  to  infants,  except 
baptism,  be  administered  to  them^Ph  "  There  is  a 
third  place  for  infants,"  says  Bellarmine,  "  who  die 
without  baptism.  This  Limbus  Puerorum  is  for  the 
eternal  punishment  of  loss  only  :"  that  is,  "  the  loss  of 
the  presence  of  God."|I  "Since,  then,"  adds  this  de- 
fender of  the  Papacy,  "  infants  are  without  reason,  so 
that  they  cannot  imitate  the  sins  of  their  fathers,  and 
are  nevertheless  punished  with  the  most  severe  of  all 
punishments,  that  is  to  say,  death  tem^poral  and  eter- 
nal ;  it  necessarily  follows  that  they  have  some  other 
sin,  for  which  they  are  justly  punished  :  and  this  is 
what  we  call  original  sin.     It  cannot,  therefore,  be 

*  August.  Hypostgnost.  Contra  Pelag.  lib.  V.  torn.  iii.  Col.  1405.  C. 
Basil,  1569. 

+  See  Cramp's  Kist.  of  Council  of  Treat,  p.  129,  and  the  works 
quoted. 

t  Concil.  Trid.  Sess.  VII.  can.  v.  p.  51.     Romae,  1564. 

§  Catechismus  ad  Parochos,  pp.  189,  191.     Lugduni,  1579. 

tl  Bellarm.  de  Purgat  1.  II.  chap.  vi.  torn.  ii.  p.  410.  A.  Colonie.  1628. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       19 

doubted  that  infants  (for  whom  it  is  shown  from  the 
word  of  Christ  and  apostolical  tradition  that  Baptism 
is  necessary^  have  sin,  which  they  bring  with  them 
from  their  mother's  womb."*  This  belief  passed  down 
to  the  Reformed  Churches,  and  was  at  first  very  gene- 
rally held.  The  Church  of  England  placed  the  un- 
baptized  on  the  same  footing  with  the  suicide  and  the 
excommunicated,  and  denied  to  them  the  office  of  bu- 
riaLt  And  this  still  continues  to  be  the  doctrine  of  the 
church,  and  of  all  high-church  prelatists  who  agree  on 
this  subject  with  the  Romanists.  "  Without  baptism," 
say  the  Oxford  Tracts,  "  none  can  enter  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."t  "  And  so  momentous  is  this  dogma  in  their 
judgment,  that  one  leading  object,"  says  Mr.  Bridges, 
himself  an  Episcopalian,  "of  their  great  movement 
confessedly  was  to  bring  it  more  fully  before  the* 
church."§  The  question  of  the  future  condition  of 
infants  became  thus  involved  with  that  of  baptism, 
and  was  not  considered  upon  its  own  merits.  Eccle- 
siastics, who  were  secluded  from  all  personal  interest 
in  domestic  life,  were  of  course  insensible  to  the  happi- 
ness connected  with  the  enjoyment  of  children,  or  to 


*  Bellarm.  de  Amiss.  Gratiae  et  Statu  Peccati.  lib.  IV.  c.  7.  torn.  iv.  p. 
61.  G.  62.  B. 

+  See  Burns'  Eccles.  Law,  vol.  i.  p.  266,  and  Wheatley  on  the  Book 
of  Prayer,  p.  477. 

t  Vol.  i.  p.  260.  See  also  Dr.  Pusey's  work  on  Bajrtism,  passinif 
Bethel  on  Baptismal  Regeneration,  pp.  7,  8,  9,  &c. 

§  See  his  Sacramental  Instruction,  p.  46,  47,  where  he  quotes  a  host 
of  authorities,  including  Perceval,  Keble,  Dr.  Pusey,  Sewell,  Bishop 
Mant,  &c.  It  would  even  appear  that  some  evangelical  Episcopalians 
of  our  present  day  are  unwilling  to  say  anything  about  the  future  con- 
dition of  unhaptized  children  who  die  in  infancy.  See  the  Church- 
man's Monthly  Rev.  May  1843,  p.  372.  This  doctrine  of  the  absolute 
necessity  of  baptism  to  salvation  was  established  in  the  Western  church 
by  papal  authority,  and  was  retciined  in  the  English  church  aft- r  the 
reformation,  until  the  year  1604,  when  it  was  declared  to  be  necessziry 
"  where  it  may  be  had."  See  Hallow  on  the  Order  of  Baptism,  &c., 
and  Ogelby  on  Lay  Baptism,  p.  159,  160,  &c 


20       SOLACK  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

the  distress  consequent  upon  their  loss.  The  fate  of 
children  awakened,  therefore,  but  a  relative  interest, 
as  it  affected  other  truths  considered  of  more  impor- 
tance. 

The  horror  naturally  associated  with  this  fearful 
doctrine  was  nevertheless  very  early  felt,  and  at  differ- 
ent times  manifested.  Various  theories  were  adopted 
to  throw  over  it  a  veil  of  charity,  and  to  render  it 
more  tolerable  to  the  wounded  spirit  of  mourning  pa- 
rents. In  the  time  of  Augustine,  Vincentius,  Victor 
and  some  others  believed  that  infants  dying  without 
baptism  might,  notwithstanding,  be  saved.*  This 
opinion  was  favoured  by  some  of  the  School  Divines, 
in  reference  to  cases  where  baptism  could  not  be  had, 
inasmuch  as  it  was  the  will  of  the  parents  that  it 
should  be  enjoyed.t  Bernard,  Biel,  Cajetan,  and  some 
others,  adopted  this  charitable  supposition.  +  And  so 
also  did  Peter  Martyr,  Wickliffe,  the  Hussites,  and  the 
Lollards,  who  adopted,  preached,  and  suffered  for,  all 
those  doctrines  which  are  now  denominated  Calvinis- 
tic.  But  this  opinion  has  been  considered  as  involving 
unconquerable  difficulties.  Jeremy  Taylor  says,  "  What 
will  be  the  condition  of  unbaptized  infants,  so  dying,  I  do 
not  profess  to  know  or  teach,  because  God  hath  kept  it 
as  a  secret." §  Baxter,  with  all  his  charity,  and  perhaps 
too  liberal  views  of  Christian  doctrine,  could  only  go  so 
far  on  this  subject  as  to  say,  '^  I  think  that  no  man  can 
prove  that  all  imbaptized  infants  are  damned  or  deni- 
ed heaven.  Nay,  I  think  I  can  prove  a  promise  to 
the  contrary."  Beyond  "  penitent  believers  and  their 
seed,"  he  says,  "  what  God  may  do  for  others  unknown 

*  See  Jer.  Taylor's  Works,  vol.  ix.  p.  90. 
t  See  list  of  in  Hooker's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  919. 
X  Jor.  Taylor  s  Wi*rk«,  vol.  ix.  p.  91  and  93. 
§  Jeremy  Taylor's  Works,  p.  92. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  21 

to  US,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with,  but  his  Covenant 
hath  made  no  other  promise  that  I  can  find."*  Similar 
were  the  sentiments  of  Bishop  Hopkins  :  "  Not  only  in- 
fants baptized,"  says  he,  "  but  all  infants  of  believing' 
parents,  though  they  should  unavoidably/  die  before 
baptism,  are  in  the  same  safe  and  blessed  condition." 
This,  however,  is  the  extent  to  v/hich  he  could  apply 
his  hopes.t 

To  this  charitable  view  of  the  matter,  which  Calvin- 
ists,  and  Calvinistic  Churches  generally  adopted,  the 
Pelagians  could  not  fully  assent. t  They  excluded 
infants  when  unbaptized  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
but  promised  to  them  an  eternal  and  a  natural  beati- 
tude. This  opinion  was  embraced  by  Ambrosius  Ca- 
tharinus,  Albertus  Pighius,  and  Hieronymus  Savana- 
rola,  Gregory  Nazianzen,  Athanasius,  Ambrose,  Pope 
Innocent  III.,  and  others.  §  Hence  arose  the  present 
doctrine  of  the  Romish  Church,  which  teaches  that 
there  is  a  liinbus  patrum,  or  place  on  the  borders  of 
hell,  for  those  who  had  believed  in  Christ  before  his 
advent ;  and  a  limbus  infantum,  for  children  who  die 
unbaptized. 

When  the  mists,  however,  which  liad  gathered 
round  the  ordinance  of  baptism  were  gradually  dis- 
persed, this  subject  was  examined  on  more  impartial 
grounds.  The  natural  feeUngs  of  the  heart  were  per- 
mitted to  declare  their  interest  in  the  decision  of  the 
question.  The  hope  expressed  by  Wicklifte  in  refer- 
ence to  unbaptized  children  was  eagerly  embraced  by 
his  followers,  who  were  all  Calvinists,  and  who  all  re- 


*  See  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  326  and  323. 
t  See  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  429. 

X  See  the  Articles  of  the  Synod  of  Dorl,  with  Scott's  Notes.     Works 
of  Scott,  vol.  viii.  p.  576. 

§  See  Jer.  Taylor,  vol.  ix.  p.  90. 


22  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

garded  baptism  in  its  truly  simple  and  scriptural  char- 
acter. Zuinglius  was  perhaps  the  first  who  proclaim- 
ed hope  for  the  salvation  of  all  infants,  whether 
CHRISTIAN  OR  HEATHEN,  wlio  died  in  their  infancy, 
and  before  they  became  chargeable  with  the  guilt  of 
actual  transgression.  He  maintained,  that  in  conse- 
quence of  the  atonement  of  Christ  offered  for  all, 
"  original  sin  does  not  even  damn  the  children  of  the 
heathen."  For  this  conclusion  concerning  children 
generally,  Zuinglius  quotes  Romans  v. ;  though  he 
admits  that  we  have  but  little  light  upon  the  subject. 
He  rejects  the  idea  that  baptism  washes  away  original 
sin  and  condemnation.  The  blessing,  he  says,  is  not 
tied  to  signs  and  symbols ;  baptism  recognizes  and 
attests  the  privilege  rather  than  confers  it.  "  What 
scriptural  authority,"  he  asks,  "  is  there  for  ascribing 
such  an  effect  to  baptism  ?"  "  The  words  of  Mark 
xvi.  16,"  says  he,  "  relate  to  those  only  to  whom  the 
gospel  was  sent.  They  that  hear  the  gospel  and  be- 
lieve it  were  blessed ;  they  who  hear  it,  and  believe  it 
not,  are  accursed.  But  this  is  no  prejudice  to  election, 
for  both  they  who  come  to  Christ  are  drawn  to  him  by 
the  Father,  which  is  election :  and  they  who  come  to 
the  Father  are  chosen  by  him ;  but  so  that  they  may 
at  length  come  to  him  by  Christ.  The  (infant)  chil- 
dren of  Christians  are  the  children  of  God  by  virtue  of 
the  covenant.  Concerning  the  children  of  heathens, 
we  decide  nothing :  though  1  confess  that  I  incUne  to 
the  sentiment  which  considers  the  death  of  Christ  as 
available  to  the  salvation  of  all  who  are  free  from  ac- 
tual sin."*  For  this  doctrine  Bossuet  charges  Zuin- 
glius with  being  a  Pelagian,  and  pronounces  this  a 


*  See  Epist.  fo.  17,  18.  Zuingl.  Op.  1.  382,  and  Scott's  Contin.  of 
Milner,  vol.  iii.  p.  143,  144,  146. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       23 

"  strange  decision.''*  This  opinion  of  Zuinglius  exci- 
ted considerable  controversy.t  Eckard  says,  '•'perhaps 
Zuinglius  pronounced  too  liberally  when  he  included 
the  children  of  the  heathen."  The  same  doctrine  was, 
however,  maintained  by  Cornehus  Wigger,  and  by 
John  lac-Schultens,  who  embraced  in  the  decree  of 
predestination  to  eternal  life  those  who  die  in  infancy, 
whether  born  of  Gentile  or  Infidel  parents.  This  was 
the  declared  sentiment  of  Arminius,t  Triglandius, 
Walders,  Heidanus,  Curcelleus,  Maresius.§  Maresius 
says,  "  The  question  is,  whether  the  decree  of  Election 
and  Reprobation  affects  infants.  There  is  not  the 
smallest  ground  from  Scripture  to  think  it  does.  Let 
parents  then  be  comforted  for  departed  children. 
These  words  of  Christ,  ("of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven,")  why  are  they  so  general,  but  that  they  seem 
to  include  the  children  not  only  of  believers  but  of  un- 
believers also."il 

The  Remonstrants  believed  that  such  infants  as 
were  not  entitled  to  heaven  by  their  relation  to  the 
covenanted  mercies  of  God,  would  be  consigned  only 
to  the  punishment  of  loss,  their  bodies  not  being  raised, 
and  their  souls  not  being  annihilated,  yet  being  eter- 
nally separated  from  the  beatific  vision  of  God.l" 

Many,  however,  regarded  the  decision  of  this  question 
as  presumptuous.  They  left  the  whole  matter  in  the 
hands  of  God,  determining  nothing  one  way  or  ano- 
ther, but  quieting  themselves  with  the  assurance,  that 
as  far  as  God's  purpose  of  salvation  extended  it  would 
be  secured ;  and  that  infants,  as  far  as  included  in  it, 
would  be  assuredly  ransomed.     Infants  were,  however, 

*  See  Hist.  Var.,  vol.  i.  p.  66. 

t  See  an  account  of  in  De  Moor's  Comment,  vol.  ii.  p.  104,  &c. 

X  See  ditto.  §  See  ditto. 

II  See  ditto,  p.  105.  ^  See  ditto,  p.  104. 


24  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

universally  regarded  as  involved  in  all  the  guilt  of  ori- 
ginal sin,  and  as  requiring  for  their  salvation  the  exer- 
cise of  the  same  mercy,  and  the  bestowment  of  the 
same  grace,  as  adults.  They  were  described  by  some 
as,  "  damnabilibus  et  forte  quibus  dum  etiam  dam- 
7iandisJ^  But  even  when  infants  were  included  by 
any  in  the  decree  of  Reprobation,  their  punishment 
was  believed  to  consist,  not  in  the  positive  infliction 
of  misery,  but  only  in  the  deprivation  of  heavenly 
rewards.* 

Calvin  clearly  recognized  the  fact  that  all  infants 
are  involved  in  the  guilt  of  Adam's  sin,  and  therefore 
liable  to  the  misery  in  which  it  has  involved  our  race. 
But  at  the  same  time  he  encourages  the  belief  that 
they  are  redeemed  from  these  evils  by  Christ,  are  capa- 
ble of  regeneration,  and  are,  when  taken  away  in  in- 
fancy, "  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  He  ar- 
gues against  those  who,  like  the  Anabaptists,  asserted 
that  regeneration  cannot  take  place  in  early  infancy. 
For  says  he,  "  if  they  must  be  left  among  the  children 
of  Adam,  they  are  left  in  death,  for  in  Adam  we  can 
only  die.  On  the  contrary,  Christ  commands  them  to 
be  brought  to  him.  Why?  because  he  is  life.  To 
give  them  hfe  therefore  he  makes  them  partakers  of 
himself,  while  these  men,  by  driving  them  away  from 
him,  adjudged  them  to  death. "t  He  then  goes  on  to 
prove,  by  incontestible  arguments,  that  infants  both 
have  been,  and  can  be,  regenerated  by  God.  And  in  his 
Commentary  on  the  w^ords  of  our  Saviour,  "  Of  such, 
&c.,"  without  any  limitation  of  his  meaning,  he  une- 
quivocally declares,  that  "  God  adopts  infants  and 
washes  them  in  tlie  blood  of  his  Son,"  and  that  "  they 

*  See  Stapfer,  vol.  iv.  p.  518.     On  the  ground  of  their  condemnation, 
see  Buddeus  Theol.  Dogm.  p.  591. 
t  See  Institutes,  B.  IV.  ch.  XVI. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       25 

are  regarded  by  Christ  as  among  his  flock."  "  In  this 
passage,"  he  adds,  "  Ciirist  is  not  speaking  of  the  gen- 
eral guilt  in  Avhich  all  the  descendants  of  Adam  are  in- 
volved, but  only  threatening  the  despisers  of  the  gos- 
pel who  proudly  and  obstinately  reject  the  grace  that  is 
offered  them;  and  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  infants. 
I  likewise  oppose  a  contrary  argument :  all  tliose  whom 
Christ  bksses  are  exempted  from  the  curse  of  Adam 
and  the  wrath  of  God ;  and  as  it  is  known  that  infants 
were  blessed  b}^  him,  it  follows  that  they  are  exempted 
from  death."* 

Certain  it  is,  that  Calvin ists  were  foremost  in  over- 
throwing the  dogma  that  baptism  was  essentially  con- 
'(lected  with  salvation,  and  in  establishing  the  truth, 
that  want  of  it  does  not  militate  against  their  future 
safety.t  It  is  well  known  that  the  former  opinion  is 
still  extensively  held  by  tliose  who  are  opposed  to  Cal- 
vinistic  sentiments.  On  this  subject  Scott  in  answer  to 
Bp.  TomUne,  remarks,  "  difew  presumptuous,  extrava- 
gant Calvinists  have  spoken  shocking  things  of  the 
damnation  of  infants :  but  to  consign  the  innumerable 
multitudes  of  those  all  over  the  world,  and  in  every 
age,  who  die  before  they  commit  actual  sin,  and  die 
unbaptized,  to  eternal  damnation,  is  far  more  shocking. 
Even  such  Calvinists  may  suppose  some  of  these  chil- 
dren to  be  elect  and  saved  :  but  the  sentiment  that 
none  dying  when  infants,  except  such  as  have  been 
baptized  are  saved,  excludes  them  alL"+  "  The  most 
unfeeling  supra-lapsarian  never  ventured  on  so  dire  an 

*  Institutes,  book  iv.  chap.  16,  see.  31,  vol.  ii.  p.  460.  See  also  pp. 
461,456,436,435. 

t  See  Caj-twright's  reply  to  Hooker  on  this  subject,  in  Hanbury'a 
Hooker,  vol.  ii.  p.  221.  See  also,  Bp.  Hopkins'  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  4^ ; 
Davenant  on  Col.,  vol.  ii.  p.  448 ;  Heywood's  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  447 ; 
iPictet's  Theology,  p.  399. 

}  See  Works,  vol.  vii.  p.  502. 

3 


26  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

opinion  as  to  consign  all  the  unbaptized  infants,  in 
every  age  and  nation,  to  eternal  misery."*  This  is 
the  language  of  a  Calvinist  addressed  to  that  larg« 
body  of  his  own  church  who  oppose  Calvinism,  an-v* 
take  occasion  to  impeach  its  charity.  Some  Calvinist» . 
it  is  true,  have  in  former  times  avoided  the  decision  o, 
this  question,  leaving  dying  infants  in  the  hands  of  j 
merciful  God.  But,  "  why,"  asks  the  same  writer, 
"  might  not  these  Calvinists  have  as  favourable  a  hop* 
of  all  infants  dying  before  actual  sin  as  Anti-Calvinist£ 
can  have?"t  What  doctrine  of  the  most  rigid  Calvinism 
is  there,  with  which  such  a  hope  can  possibly  militate? 
Is  it  the  doctrine  of  God's  sovereignty,  whereby  is  at- 
tributed to  him  all  power  and  right  of  dominion  over 
his  creatures,  to  dispose  of  them,  and  to  extend  or 
withhold  favour,  as  seemeth  to  him  good — but  why 
may  it  not  please  God,  in  the  exercise  of  this  sover- 
eignty, to  extend  his  favour  to  all  dying  infants  ?  Is  it 
the  doctrine  of  election,  whereby  God,  out  of  his  mere 
love,  for  the  praise  of  his  glorious  grace,  to  be  manifest- 
ed in  due  time,  hath,  in  Christ,  chosen  some  men  to 
eternal  life  and  the  means  thereof — but  why  may  not 
dying  infants  be  among  these  chosen  ones  ?  Is  it  the 
doctrine  of  the  divine  decrees,  whereby,  for  his  own 
glory,  God  hath  fore-ordained  whatsoever  comes  to 
pass,  especially  concerning  angels  and  men — but  why 
may  not  the  salvation  of  all  dying  infants  have  been 
thus  decreed?  Is  it  the  doctrine  of  God's  free  and 
rich  grace,  whereby  the  hohness,  obedience,  and  right- 
eousness of  Christ  are  imputed  to  us  for  justification ; 
and  inherent  grace  is  wrought  in  the  heart  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  in  regeneration  ; — but  why  may  not  this 
grace  be  imparted  to  all  dying  infants  ?     If  God  gives 

•  See  Works,  vol.  x.  p.  407.  t  Do.  vol.  viii.  p.  573. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       27 

US  hope  for  such  in  his  blessed  Word,  then  is  it  not 
manifest  that  their  salvation,  instead  of  being  thrown 
upon  the  contingency  of  human  will ;  or  being  made 
dependent  upon  human  effort ;  or  connected  with  the 
moral  character  or  personal  agency  of  infants  them- 
selves ;  or  left  at  hazard,  through  the  indifference  or 
neglect,  of  men ; — is  based  by  these  doctrines  upon  the 
unchangeable  purpose,  and  the  all-suflicient  grace  of 
God ;  and  is  therefore  rendered  gloriously  certain 
to  the  bereaved  and  mourning  spirit  of  the  disconsolate 
parent?  If,  however,  rejecting  these  doctrines  (wliich 
Calvinists  love  because  doctrines  of  the  Bible)  we  make 
election  to  rest  on  the  foreknowledge  of  good  works ; — 
or  moral  character  to  depend  on  moral  conduct ; — and 
salvation  to  be  limited,  in  its  flow,  to  the  channel  of 
Christian  ordinances ; — then  what  hope  can  be  enter- 
tained for  those  who  have  been  taken  away  while  as 
yet  they  could  not  discern  good  from  evil ; — while 
without  any  moral  character,  and  thus  wholly  unfit  for 
enjoyment  or  reward  ; — and  w^hile,  as  "  nameless 
things,"  they  have  never  passed  through  the  "  purify- 
ing entrance"  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  We  answer 
— none  that  is  reasonable  or  satisfactory. 

But  on  the  ground  of  Calvinism  this  hope  is  all  that 
can  be  desired,  and  arises  most  naturally  from  its  prin- 
ciples. "  In  perfect  consistency,"  says  Dr.  Harris,  in 
his  Essay  on  this  subject,  "with  their  theological  creed, 
have  some  Calvinists  entertained  the  opmion  advocated 
in  the  preceding  pages  ;  while  others,  expressing  a 
hope  of  its  truth  to  the  full  extent,  have  discovered 
the  wished-for  evidence,  in  favour  of  the  children  of 
pious  persons  only ;  but  none  of  any  consideration  are 
known  to  have  maintained,  or  even  allowed,  that  the 
inference  in  question  (i.  e.  the  damnation  of  any  in- 
fants) is  an  evident  and  necessary  dedviction  from  Cal- 


7S&  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

vinistic  doctrines.  In  direct  opposition  to  what  must, 
therefore,  be  considered  an  unfounded  aspersion,  it 
would  require  but  Uttle  labour  to  prove,  that  the  great 
peculiarities  of  this  system,  supply  the  most  tenable 

AND  SATISFACTORY  GROUNDS  OF  HOPE  FOR  THE 
SALVATION  OF  ALL  V/HO  DEPART  THIS  LIFE  ANTE- 
CEDENT   TO    PERSONAL    TRANSGRESSION." 

I  would  here  quote  the  language  of  one  of  our  oldest 
and  most  thoroughly  Calvinistic  Divines,  the  celebrated 
William  Perkins,  a  Puritan :  "  Infants  have  no  works 
whereby  they  may  be  judged,  seeing  they  do  neither 
good  nor  evil,  as  the  Scripture  speaketh  of  Jacob  and 
Esau,  Rom.  ix.  11.  Therefore  all  shall  not  be  judged 
according  to  works.  Ans.  These  phrases  of  Scrip- 
ture, as  a  tnan  sows,  so  shall  he  reap  :  every  one 
shall  receive  according  to  his  works,  (^^c.  are  not  to 
be  extended  to  all,  but  must  be  restrained  to  such  as 
have  works,  and  knowledge  to  discern  betwixt  good 
and  evil,  which,  infants  have  not.  For  besides  that 
they  are  destitute  of  works,  they  also  want  the  use  of 
reason  ;  and  therefore  they  shall  not  be  judged  by  the 
book  of  conscience,  but  by  the  book  of  life.  For  to  say 
as  Hugo  de  S.  Vict,  doth  upon  the  Romanes,  quaest. 
59,  that  tliey  shall  be  condemned  for  the  sins  which 
their  parents  committed  in  their  conception  and  nativ- 
it}^,  as  though  they  themselves  had  actually  committed 
them,  is  contrary  to  that,  Ezek.  xviii.  20.,  The  son 
shall  not  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  Father. 

"  Again,  some  may  say,  if  children  do  not  apprehend 
Christ's  benefits  by  their  parent's  faith  ;  how  then  is 
Christ's  righteousness  made  theirs  and  they  saved? 
Ans.  By  the  inward  working  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who 
is  the  principal  applier  of  all  graces,  whereas  faith  is 
but  the  instrument.  As  for  the  places  of  Scripture 
that  mention  justification  and  salvation  by  faith,  they 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  29 

are  to  be  restrained  to  men  of  years :  whereas  infants 
dying  in  their  infancy,  and  therefore  wanting  actual 
laith,  which  none  can  have  without  actual  knowledge 
of  God's  will  and  word,  are  no  doubt  saved  by  some 
other  special  working  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  not  known 
to  us."  "  Infants,"  he  adds,  "  already  elected,  albeit  they, 
in  the  womb  of  their  mother  before  they  were  born,  or 
presently  after,  depart  this  hfe,  they,  I  say,  being  after 
a  secret  and  unspeakable  manner,  by  God's  spirit  en- 
grafted into  Christ,  obtain  eternal  life."  1  Cor.  xii.  13. 
Luke  i.  35,  41,  64,  and  Jer.  i.  5.* 

And  equally  strong  speaks  the  great  Coryphaeus  of 
Calvinism,  who  carried  out  its  principles  to  their  ex- 
tremest  limits,  I  mean  the  celebrated  Toplady.  In  his 
vindication  of  the  Church  of  England  from  Arminian- 
ism,  he  had  asserted  his  belief  in  the  salvation  of  all 
infants  dying  in  infancy.  This  opinion  his  opponents 
interpreted  as  involving  the  doctrine  of  general  redemp- 
tion. "  As  if,"  says  Toplady,  "  all  died  in  infancy." 
'-'  I  testify  my  firm  belief,  that  the  souls  of  all  departed 
infants  are  with  God  in  glory :  that,  in  the  decree  of 
predestination  to  hfe,  God  hath  included  all  whom  he 
mtended  to  take  away  in  infancy  ;  and  that  the  decree 
of  reprobation  hath  nothing  to  do  with  them."t 

"  In  the  mean  while  (says  he)  I  should  be  obliged  if 
he  would,  with  the  help  of  Mr.  Wesley's  irradiation,  show 
me  what  becomes  of  departed  infants,  upon  the  Armin- 
ian  plan  of  conditional  salvation,  and  election  of  good 
works  foreseen." 

Dr.  Gill,  who  resembled  Toplady  in  carrying  out 
the  principles  of  Calvinism  to  their  extremest  hmit, 
also  resembled  him  in  holding  this  comfortable  view  of 
the  doctrine  of  election.     In  his  Complete  Body  of 

«  Works,  Fol  vol.  iii.  p.  386.    VoL  ii  p.  127,  and  vol.  i.  p.  77. 
+  Ditto,  vol.  i.  p.  207. 

3* 


30       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Practical  and  Doctrinal  Diviniti/,  he  makes  the  fol- 
lowing remark  on  the  case  of  infants  dying  in  infancy : 
'^  Now  such  a  number  as  they  are,  can  never  be 
thought  to  be  brought  into  being  in  vain,  God  is  and 
will  be  glorified  in  them  ;  now  though  their  election  is 
a  secret  to  us,  and  unrevealed,  it  may  be  reasonably 
supposed,  yea  in  a  judgment  of  charity  it  may  rather 
be  concluded,  that  they  are  all  chosen,  than  that  none 
are.  But  the  election  of  them  cannot  be  owing  to 
their  faith,  holiness,  obedience,  good  works,  and  perse- 
verance, or  to  the  foresight  of  these  things,  which  do 
not  appear  in  them." 

I  may  refer  also  to  the  sentiments  of  Tyndale,  the 
Translator  of  the  New  Testament  into  English  ;*  of 
Pictet  the  learned  Professor  of  Geneva  ;t  to  the  touch- 
ing letter  of  Whitefield  on  the  death  of  his  infant  son;t 
of  Watts  to  a  lady  bereaved  of  several  infant  children ; 
and  of  the  pious  Rutherford  to  a  lady  on  the  loss  of 
a  daughter  ;§  of  Addington,ll  and  of  Robert  Hall;1[  of 
Howe,**  and  of  Cotton  Mather, tt  Buchanan,  tt  and 
these  are  all  Oalvinists. 

It  may  be  well,  however,  to  add  a  few  more  quota- 
tions from  Calvinistic  writers.  Dr.  Wilhams,  in  his 
"  Defence  of  Modern  Calvinism "  against  the  attacks 
and  misrepresentations  of  Bishop  Tomline,  at  p.  75, 
says :  "  That  they  [infants]  are  capable  of  regeneration 
indeed,  is  admitted,  as  well  as  of  remission,  justification, 


*  See  Works,  vol  ii.  p.  516. 

t  See  his  Theol.  B.  xi.  Chap.  iv.  pp.  494,  495,  and  p.  444,  445. 
t  See  Life  of,  by  Philip. 
§  See  Letters,  Part  2,  Letter  iii. 
II  Work  on  Baptism,  p.  62-64,  67,* 76. 
T  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  88,  89. 

**  Works  of  John  Howe,  vol.  iv.  p.  4,  5,  and  vol.  vii.  p.  544,  5. 
tt  See  quoted  afterwards. 

tt  Rev.  James  Buchanan  of  Edinburgh,  in  his  Office  and  Work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  Part.  1,  ch.  viii.  on  the  Regeneration  of  Infants. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       31 

holiness  of  nature,  and  heavenly  blessedness ;  and  we 
reflect  with  pleasure,  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  afford 
many  encouraging  intimations  relative  to  the  salvation 
of  dying  infants — whether  baptized  or  not.  Though 
they  have  no  hope,  we  have  hope  concerning  them." 
The  same  view  is  also  presented  in  that  noble  defence 
of  Calvinistic  doctrine,  the  Lime  Street  Lectures, 
where  it  is  said,  "  an  elect  infant  is  as  capable  of  being 
effectually  called,  or  renewed  by  grace,  of  being  freely 
justified,  and  for  ever  glorified,  as  a  grown  person."* 
Again,  at  another  place,  the  subject  is  more  fully  dis- 
cussed— "  As  for  infants,  we  take  it  for  granted,  in  the 
present  argument,  that  they  are  conceived  in  sin,  and 
shapen  in  iniquity  ;  that  that  which  is  born  of  the 
flesh,  is  flesh ;  that  they  are,  by  reason  of  the  disobe- 
dience of  the  first  man,  sinners,  and  so  unworthy  of, 
and  unmeet  for,  the  heavenly  glory,  and  must  be  ex- 
cluded from  it,  unless  washed  in  the  blood  of  Jesus 
and  sanctified  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  To  suppose  them 
all,  or  indeed  any  of  them,  to  perish  is  to  be  cruelly 
WISE  above  what  is  w^ritten  :  and  to  imagine 
they  are  so  holy,  as  to  need  no  cleansing,  or  that  any 
thing  defiled  can  enter  into  heaven,  is  directly  flying  in 
the  face  of  Scripture  :  so  that,  though  we  are  not  told 
positively  what  is  their  portion  ;  yet  we  may  safely 
determine  that  they  are  made  meet,  if  in 
heaven,  for  that  inheritance  w^hich  is  incor- 
ruptible and  undefiled." 

I  will  only  add  to  these  authorities  the  following 
remarkable  quotation  from  the  National  Covenant 
adopted  in  Scotland  in  the  year  1581,  again  in  1590, 
1638,  1639,  1640,  1650  and  1651.  "But,"  says  this 
venerable  document,  in  detaihng  the  enormous  errors 

*  P.  279,  280,  Eng.  ed. 


32  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS, 

of  the  Roman  Antichrist,  ^'  in  special  we  detest  and 
refuse  his  cruel  judgment  against  infants  departing 
without  the  Sacrament,  and  his  absolute  necessity  of 
baptism,"  (fee* 

Dr.  Junkin,  also,  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  this 
country,  and  one  of  the  strongest  defenders  of  strict 
old-fashioned  Calvinism,  in  his  late  work  on  the  doc- 
trine of  Justification,  heads  his  10th  chapter  thus  : 
"  Original  Sin — proved  from  the  salvation  of  those  that 
die  in  infancy."  "  It  is  not  inconsistent/'  says  he^ 
"with  any  doctt-ine  of  the  Bible,  that  the  souls  of  de- 
ceased infants  go  to  heaven."  '•  As  to  the  opinion  that 
ALL  who  die  in  infanc}^^  both  children  of  believ- 
ers  AND    UNBELIEVERS;  CHRISTIANS    AND    PAGANS, 

go  to  happiness  and  heaven,  it  may  be  harmlessly  en- 
tertained ;  it  may  however  operate  an  evil  influence 
upon  the  minds  of  wicked  and  unbeUeving  parents." 
"  While  therefore  I  have  no  objection  to  the  opinion 
that  all  who  die  in  infancy  go  to  happiness,  yet  I  must 
think  that  in  reference  to  the  infants  of  unbelievers,  it 
is  mere  opinion,  although  it  is  in  all  probability  an 
opinion  according  to  truth ."t 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Scott  the  author  of  the  Commen- 
tary, and  another  of  the  boldest  defenders  of  the  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrines,  says,  "  I  do  not  propose  it  as  an  arti- 
cle of  faith ;  for  it  is  not  expressly  revealed  (though  it 
appears  to  be  favoured  in  scripture)  that  as  infants, 
withovit  actual  transgression,  are  involved  in  the  ruin 
of  our  race  by  the  first  Adam,  so  infants,  as  such,  dy- 
ing before  actual  transgressioa,  before  they  are  capable 
of  knowing  right  from  wrong,  are,  without  personal 
repentance  and  feiith,  but  not  without  regeneration, 
made  partakers  of  the  salvation  of  the  second  Adam. 

•  See  Irving's  Confessions,  p.  135.  +  P.  141, 143. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       33 

I  do  not  say,  '  It  is  so ;'  but,  '  probably  it  may  be  so*' 
And,  when  we  consider  what  a  large  proportion  of  the 
human  race,  in  every  age  and  nation,  die  in  infancy,  it 
appears  to  me  a  cheering  thought." 

Thus,  also,  speaks  Newton :  ''  I  hope  you  are  both 
well  reconciled  to  the  death  of  your  child.  Indeed,  I 
cannot  be  sorry  for  the  death  of  infants.  How  many 
storms  do  they  escape  !  Nor  can  I  doubt,  in  my  pri- 
vate judgment,  that  they  are  included  in  the  election 
of  grace.  Perhaps  those  who  die  in  infancy  ire  the 
exceeding  great  multitudes  of  all  people,  nations,  and 
languages  mentioned  (Rev.  vii.  9.)  in  distinction  from 
the  visible  body  of  professing  believers,  who  were 
marked  in  their  foreheads,  and  openly  known  to  be  the 
Lord's." 

But  these  quotations  it  is  unnecessary  to  multiply. 
In  the  Presbyterian  and  other  Calvinistic  churches,  in- 
cluding the  Congregational,  which  embrace  the  doc- 
trinal portions  of  the  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith, 
there  is,  it  is  true,  no  canonical  determination  on  this 
subject.  This  Confession  says  :  "  Elect  infants,  dying 
in  infancy,  are  regenerated  and  saved  by  Christ 
through  the  spirit."*  It  teaches,  therefore,  the  cer- 
tainty OF  THE    salvation   OF  ALL    INFANTS,  WHO 

ARE  ELECT.  It  also  teaches  that  baptism  is  not  ne- 
cessarily connected  with  grace  and  salvation,  and  that 
exclusion  from  it  does  not  exclude  from  regeneration.! 
It  teaches  further  that  infants,  though  incapable  of  ex- 
hibiting their  faith,  may  be  regenerated.^  It  leaves 
every  one  therefore  from  an  examination  of  the  Scrip- 
tures to  decide  how  far  the  electing  love  of  God  ex- 
tends.    At  this  time  it  is,  I  suppose,  universally  believ- 

*  Ch.  10,  sec.  3.  t  Ch.  28,  sec.  5. 

t  See  note  3,  and  see  Larachi  Op.  Tom.  ii.  p.  47.  Dick's  TheoL 
vol.  iv.  p.  75,  and  Calvin's  Instit.  13,  4. 


34       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

ed  by  Presbyterians,  and  those  who  hold  to  the  doctrine 
of  election,  that  all  dying  infants  are  included  among 
the  elect,  are  made  heirs  of  grace,  and  become  mem- 
bers of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I,  at  least,  am  not  ac- 
quainted with  any  Avho  hold  an  opposite  sentiment. 
Possibly,  when  the  doctrine  is  extended  to  the  infants 
of  Heathen  parents,  some  might  not  be  prepared  fully 
to  concur  in  it ;  but  that  there  is  ground  from  Scrip- 
ture to  believe  that  even  they  are  included  in  the 
promises  of  Divine  mercy,  and  are,  as  Mr.  Toplady 
confidently  says,  "  all  undoubtedly  saved,"  is,  I  have 
no  doubt,  an  opinion  to  which  Presbyterians  will,  gen- 
erally, subscribe.  The  opposite  opinion,  which  has 
been  maintained  by  some  Calvinists,  in  common  with 
many  Arminians  of  former  days,  and  which  is  held 
by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  at  the  'present  time,- 
may  be  most  certainly  regarded,  as  a  recent  writer  has 
said,  as  "  an  excrescence,  and  not  an  essential  feature, 
of  the  system  of  Calvinism." 

The  assertion,  however,  is  still  frequently  and  most 
slanderously  published,  that  Calvinists  beheve  that 
children,  dying  in  infancy,  are  damned;  that  this  is 
the  doctrine  of  our  confession  of  faith  ;  and  that  Cal- 
vin expressly  taught  that  there  are  infants  in  hell  only 
a  span  long.  Nothing,  however,  can  be  more  untrue. 
As  to  the  opinion  of  Calvinists,  we  have  shown  that  it 
is  now  universally  in  favour  of  the  hope  that  all  chil- 
dren dying  in  infancy  are  saved  through  the  merits  of 
Christ's  death,  applied  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Calvin, 
also,  as  has  been  shown,  was  among  the  very  first  of 
the  reformers  to  overthrow  the  unchristian  and  most 
horrible  doctrine  of  the  Romish  and  High-church  di- 
vines, that  no  unbaptized  infant  can  be  saved ;  to 
maintain  the  possibility  of  their  regeneration  by  the 
Spirit  without  baptism ;  and  to  encourage  the  hope  of 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  35 

their  general  salvation.  And  as  to  the  passage  in 
the  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  teach  the  damnation  of  infants,  it  is  contained 
in  ch.  X.  sec.  3,  and  is  as  follows  : 

"  Elect  infants,  dying  in  infancy,  are  regenerated 
and  saved  by  Christ  through  the  Spirit,  who  worketh 
when,  and  where,  and  how  he  pleaseth.  So  also  are 
all  other  elect  persons,  who  are  incapable  of  being  out- 
wardly called  by  the  Ministry  of  the  Word." 

The  subject  of  this  chapter  is  "  effectual  caUing,"  by 
which,  it  is  beheved,  that  "  all  those  whom  God  hath 
predestinated  unto  life  he  is  pleased,  in  his  appointed 
time,  effectually  to  call  out  of  that  state  of  sin  and 
death  in  which  they  are,  by  nature,  to  grace  and  sal- 
vation by  Jesus  Christ,"  &c.  (See  Sect.  I.) — The  Con- 
fession proceeds  in  Sect.  2d,  to  say :  "  This  effectual 
call  is  of  God's  free  and  special  grace  alone,  not  from 
any  thing  at  all  foreseen  in  man,  who  is  altogether 
passive  therein,  until  being  quickened  and  renewed  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  he  is  thereby  enabled  to  answer  this 
call,  and  to  embrace  the  grace  offered  and  conveyed  in 
it." 

Now  the  objection  which  would  naturally  arise  in 
the  mind  against  this  doctrine,  would  be  this — If  this 
is  so,  then  does  not  this  doctrine  apparently  exclude  in- 
fants from  any  participation  in  this  salvation,  since 
they  clearly  are  not  capable  of  obeying  this  call,  and 
of  embracing  this  offered  grace.  The  Confession, 
therefore,  proceeds  to  obviate  this  objection  by  showing 
that,  as  this  calling  in  itself  considered,  and  the  power 
and  the.  disposition  to  answer  this  call,  and  embrace 
the  grace  conveyed  in  it,  is  a  different  thing  from  that 
answer  and  embrace — there  is  no  more  difficulty  in 
bestowing  this  quickening  and  renewing  influence  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  upon  infants  than  upon  adults.     In- 


36  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

lants  as  well  as  adults  may  be  thus  effectually  called 
and  regenerated,  though  adults  only  are  in  a  state  fit- 
ting them  to  act  upon  this  call  by  the  exercise  of  their 
renewed  powers  and  sanctified  will.  Regenerated  in- 
fants are  equally,  with  adults,  endued  with  a  renewed 
and  holy  disposition,  which  will  develope  itself,  when 
the  subject  is  capable,  in  holy  acts.  Our  Confession, 
therefore,  wisely,  charitably,  and  scripturally  concludes, 
that  this  grace  is  co-extensive  with  God's  electing  love 
and  mercy,  and  is  bestowed  upon  the  objects  of  that 
love,  whether  they  are  removed  from  this  world  in  a 
state  of  infancy,  or  of  maturity.  It  overthrows  the 
doctrine  of  Romanists,  High  Church  Episcopalians, 
and  others,  who  teach  that  this  grace  of  salvation,  by 
the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  is  tied  down  and  lim- 
ited— -jirst^  by  what  they  most  vainly  and  arrogantly 
call  the  only  true  Church,  to  wit,  the  Romanist  or 
Episcopal  Churches,  and  secondly  by  the  ordinances 
of  baptism  as  administered  in  these  churches ;  and  what 
the  passage  does  decide,  is,  as  Calvinists  now  univer- 
sally  agree   in   believing,   that   there    is    every 

REASONABLE  GROUND  TO  HOPE  THAT  ALL  INFANTS 
DYING  IN  INFANCY  ARE  INCLUDED  IN  THE  DECREE 
OF  ELECTION  AND  ARE  MADE  PARTAKERS  OF  EVER- 
LASTING LIFE.*  This,  then,  is  the  view  of  Calvinists ; 
and  while  it  favours  the  most  unbounded  charity  and 
hope,  it  rests  that  hope,  not  upon  any  thing  in  the  in- 
fant itself,  nor  upon  any  thing  done  for  it  by  any 
church,  but  upon  the  sure  purpose  of  a  merciful  God, 
and  the  comfortable  promises  and  declarations  of  his 
word. 

•  Thus  Dr.  Gumming,  of  the  Scotch  Church  in  London,  has  lately 
published  a  Discourse  to  prove  that  all  children  dying  in  infancy, 

OR  RSFORE  THE  YEARS  OF  RESPONBIWHTY,  ARE,  WITHOUT  ONE  EXCKP- 
TTON   OR   LIMITATION    AB    TO    THE    CHARACTER    OR"  THE    CONDUCT    OJT    TH« 


solace  for  bereaved  parents.  o7 

Among  all  evangelical  denomination's  this 
OPINION  IS  now  received.  We  have  given  the 
names  of  EvangeHcal  EpiscopaHans.  Gillard,  whose 
treatise  I  have  mentioned,  was,  I  presume,  both  a  Bap- 
tist and  a  Calvinist.  Dr.  Gill's  sentiments  have  been 
alluded  to,  and  they  are  quoted  with  approbation  in 
the  Baptist  Confession  of  Faith.  The  Rev.  Robert 
Robinson,  who  has  written  the  History  of  Baptism, 
thus  expresses  himself:  "  Various  opinions  concerning 
the  future  state  of  infants  have  been  adopted.  The 
most  probable  opinion  seems  to  be,  that  they  are  all 
saved  through  the  merit  of  the  Mediator,  with  an  ever- 
lasting salvation.  This  hath  nothing  in  it  contrary  to 
the  perfections  of  God,  or  to  any  declarations  of  the 
holy  scriptures ;  and  it  is  highly  agreeable  to  all  those 
passages,  which  affirm,  where  sin  hath  abounded, 
grace  hath  much  tnore  abounded.  On  these  princi- 
ples, the  death  of  Christ  saves  more  than  the  fall  of 
Adam  lost.*' 

Wesley  does  not  appear  to  have  determined  this 
question  at  all.  The  salvation  of  all  dying  in  infancy 
is,  however,  the  prevalent  belief  among  his  followers. 
The  Rev.  Richard  Watson,  who  is  deservedly  regarded 
as  the  ablest  writer,  and  as  a  standard  authority 
among  the  Methodists,  very  powerfully  advocates  this 
opinion.* 

This  is  also  the  established  beUef  of  the  Lutheran 
Church,t  as  it  is  of  the  (Quaker  denomination.!: 

But  whence,  we  ask,  arose  this  community  of  opin- 
ion?    It  originated,  as  has  been  shown,  among  the 


*  See  his  Institutes,  voL  ii.  p.  228,  and  vol.  iii.  p.  72. 

t  See  Schmucker's  Theology,  128,  and  p.  220.  Storr  &  Flatt's 
Theology,  sec.  68,  p.  394.  Mosheim  wrote  a  treatise,  which  we  have 
not  seen,  on  this  subject. 

X  See  Barclay's  Apology, 

4 


OO  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Calvinists.  The  battle  for  liberty  and  charity  of  opin- 
ion against  the  dogmas  of  the  church  was  fought  by 
them.  Even  when  light  had  not  irradiated  the  subject, 
and  it  was  still  shrouded  in  the  darkness  of  prejudice, 
many  Calvinists,  rather  than  yield  to  the  gloom  of  the 
generally  entertained  opinion  that  all  unbaptized  in- 
fants perish,  groped  about  for  any  possible  theory  that 
might  relieve  them  of  their  distress.  Some,  as  I  have 
shown,  threw  a  veil  of  impenetrable  darkness  over  the 
whole  subject,  and  regarded  an  entrance  upon  its  ex- 
amination as  presumption.*  Others  were  induced  to 
believe  that  the  souls  of  all  such  children  would  be  an- 
nihilated.! Others,  that  their  souls  remained  in  a  state 
of  insensibility  either  to  good  or  evil.t  All  advocated 
the  possibility  of  their  salvation — the  /9r«c^ica6t7i^y 
of  their  regeneration — and  all  denied  the  absolute  ne- 
cessity of  baptism  to  either.  And  can  any  one  deny 
that  the  present  clear  and  settled  views  on  this  subject 
have  been  introduced  by  Calvinists?  Let  him  only 
remember  that  every  one  of  the  works  and  discourses 
on  the  subject  to  which  I  have  alluded,  were  written 
by  Calvinists ;  that  almost  all  the  selections  I  have 
been  enabled  to  collect  are  from  writers  holding  the 
same  views ;  and  that  much  even  of  the  finest  of  our 
Poetical  Selections,  are  from  authors  whose  muse  wa? 
guided  by  Calvinistic  views.  Our  work,  in  fact,  may 
be  regarded  as  a  noble  testimony  to  the  truly  scriptural 
and  CHARITABLE  nature  of  those  much  abused,  be- 
cause misunderstood,  doctrines  which  most  Evangelical 
churches  agree  in  adopting.  And  surely  it  may  be 
expected,  that  these  facts  will  give  joy  and  consolation 
to  those  christians  whose  ideas  of  Calvinism  have  been 

*  See  De  Moor,  Stapfer,  Doddridge,  (sec.  168,)  Baxter, 
t  This  was  Dr.  Watts'  laboured  hypothesis.         >  Works, 
t  Dr.  Ridgley  advocated  this  opinion.     See     ^  i^ivinity. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  39 

such  as  to  lead  them  to  cherish  the  prejudices  that  are 
so  commonly  and  so  ignorantly  entertained,  and  enable 
them  to  cherish  more  kind  and  liberal  feehngs  towards 
Calvinistic  churches. 

And  that  the  reader  may  still  more  clearly  perceive 
how  much  bereaved  parents  are  indebted  to  Calvinism 
for  the  present  comfortable  and  established  hopes  for 
dying  infants,  let  me  call  his  attention  to  the  conflict- 
ing opinions  which  once  prevailed  on  this  much  con- 
troverted subject,  as  they  are  given  by  Baxter : 

"  Some  think  that  all  infants  (baptized  or  not)  are 
saved  from  hell,  and  positive  punishment,  but  are  not 
brought  to  heaven,  as  being  not  capable  of  such  joys. 

"  Some  think  that  all  infants  (dying  such)  are  saved 
as  others  are,  by  actual  felicity  in  heaven,  though  in  a 
lower  degree.  Both  these  sorts  suppose  that  Christ's 
death  saveth  all  that  reject  it  not,  and  that  infants  re- 
ject it  not. 

"  Some  think  that  all  unbaptized  infants  do  suffer 
the  '  poenam  damni,'  and  are  shut  out  of  heaven  and 
happiness,  but  not  sensibly  punished  or  cast  into  hell. 
For  this  Jansenius  hath  wrote  a  treatise ;  and  maay 
other  Papists  think  so. 

"  Some  think  that  all  the  children  of  sincere  believers 
dying  in  infancy  are  saved,  (that  is,  glorified,)  whether 
baptized  or  not ;  and  no  others. 

"  Some  think  that  God  hath  not  at  all  revealed  what 
he  will  do  with  any  infants. 

"  Some  think  that  all  the  adopted  and  bought  chil- 
dren of  true  Christians,  as  Avell  as  the  natural,  are 
saved  (if  baptized,  say  some ;  or  if  not,  say  others.) 

"Some  think  that  elect  infants  are  saved,  and  no 
other. 

"  Some  think  that  all  that  the  pastor  dedicateth  to 
God  are  saved. 


40  SOLACE    FOR  BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

"  Some  think  that  this  is  to  be  limited  to  all  that 
have  right  to  baptism  '  coram  Deo ;'  which  some  think 
the  Church's  reception  giveth  them. 

"  And  some  think  it  is  to  be  limited  to  those  that 
have  right  '  coram  ecclesia,'  or  are  rightfully  baptized.'' 

Bereaved  Parent !  what  would  be  the  aggravation 
of  your  distress  if  still  plunged  in  this  vortex  of  con- 
flicting opinions  ?  and  how  much,  therefore,  should  it 
add  to  your  patient  resignation  to  the  will  of  God  in 
the  removal  of  your  children,  when  you  find  that  all 

BRANCHES  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  EVANGELICAL 
CHURCH,  HAVE  NOAV  COME  TO  A  COMMON  AND 
UNITED  BELIEF,  THAT  THERE  IS  EVERY  REASON 
TO  HOPE,  THAT,  IN  SO  DOING,  GoD  HAS  SECURED 
THEIR  SALVATION,  AND  WOULD  ALSO  LEAD  TO 
YOUR    SPIRITUAL    AND    EVERLASTING    GOOD. 

It  will  be  our  object,  then,  to  illustrate  this  subject, 
and  to  prove  the  salvation  of  tliose  who  die  before  they 
reach  the  age  of  personal  responsibility,  or  in  other 
words,  before  they  become,  properly  speaking,  moral 
agents.  It  is  by  no  means  pretended  that  we  can  pre- 
cisely specify  the  exact  period  when  personal  accounta- 
bility commences.  This  will  vary  in  different  individ- 
uals, according  to  the  degree  of  natural  faculties  of 
which  they  are  severally  possessed,  and  according  to 
the  means  which  they  have  enjoyed  for  their  develop- 
ment. Some  may  be  as  accountable  when  but  a  few 
years  old,  as  others  are  when  double  their  age.  It  is 
for  parents  then  to  begin  as  soon  as  practicable  to  train 
up  their  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord;  to  seek  to  instil  into  their  tender  minds  the 
truths  of  the  gospel ;  and  to  bear  them  on  their  hearts 
at  the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace;  and  then  the 
event  may  be  left  with  confidence  in  the  hands  of  the 
God  of  all  mercy  and  faithfulness." 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       41 

In  doing  this,  however,  let  none  imagine  that  we  are 
about  to  lose  sight  of  any  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the 
evangehcal  system,  and  be  thereby  led  to  entertain 
doubts  or  prejudices  against  our  views. 

To  use  the  words  of  Dr.  Russell,  in  his  valuable  Es- 
say on  this  subject,  "  Though  the  great  question  is, 

*  What  saith  the  scriptures?'  and  not.  What  saith  this  or 
the  other  reformer  ?  yet,  as  names  are  sometimes  used 
as  the  means  of  reproaching  the  innocent,  and  mislead- 
ing the  unwary,  and  the  uninformed,  it  may  be  proper  to 
state,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  great  pecuharities  of 
the  system  commonly  called  moderate  Calvinism  which 
is  in  the  least  incompatible  with  the  salvation  of  infants. 
On  the  contrary,  that  system,  as  now  held  by  its  en- 
lightened advocates,  furnishes  the  most  tenable  and  sat- 
isfactory grounds  for  the  pleasing  persuasion,  that  all 
who  die  without  personal  transgression,  are  written  in 
the  Lamb's  book  of  life.  Accordingly,  very  many  of  its 
most  decided  friends  have  avowed  their  conviction  of 
this,  in  relation  to  all  dying  in  infancy.  And  even 
some  of  the  very  highest,  if  not  even  hyper-Calvinists, 
have  expressed  themselves  favourably  in  regard  to  it. — 
This,  for  instance,  has  been  done  by  Dr.  Gill,  who  says^ 

*  that  many  unguarded  expressions  have  been  dropped, 
concerning  the  punishment  of  such,  which  are  not  at 
all  to  the  credit  of  truth.'*  Mr.  Toplady,  to  whom  we 
have  already  referred,  has  given  an  explanation  of  our 
Lord's  admonition  in  Matth.  xviii.  10,  which  (suppos- 
ing it  to  be  just)  affords  a  direct  proof  of  the  sentiment 
in  question.  '  Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of 
these  little  ones,  for  I  say  unto  you,  that  in  heaven 
their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father 
which  is  in  heaven.'     He  understands  by  their  angels, 

*  Body  of  Divinity,  vol.  11.  p.  543, 
4* 


42  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

*  the  souls  of  such  children  as  die  in  their  infancy,' 
who  upon  their  bodies  being  previously  ^  dislodged  by 
death,  do  always  behold  the  face  of  God,  who  is  in 
heaven.'*  Now,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  this  in- 
terpretation of  the  passage,  or  of  the  word  angel,  in 
this  connexion,  (which  some  think  is  supported  by 
Acts  xii.  15,)  it  will  be  allowed,  that  the  salvation  of 
infants  was  not  considered  by  this  writer  as  inconsist- 
ent even  with  the  high  views  which  he  connected  with 
the  doctrine  of  election,  and  in  the  defence  of  which 
he  was  so  active  and  zealous.  In  other  parts  of  his 
works,  he  expresses  his  full  conviction,  that  all  dying 
in  infancy  are  saved  through  Christ.  It  must  be  very 
uncandid,  then,  to  represent  a  man  as  inimical  to  the 
principles  of  what  is  called  modern  or  moderate  Calvin- 
ism, because  he  believes  in  the  salvation  of  departed 
infants,  when  the  sentiment  has  been  held  by  some  of 
the  keenest  defenders  of  the  very  highest  Calvinism.f 
It  maj^  be  added,  that  the  opposite  sentiment  has  not 
been  exclusively  held  by  persons  of  one  school  of  theol- 
ogy, for  not  a  few  Anti-Calvinists  have  held,  that  a 
great  proportion  of  those  who  die  in  infancy,  are  at 
least  excluded  from  the  benefits  of  redemption.  The 
question  of  course  is,  on  what  grounds  do  the  respec- 
tive advocates  of  these  different  view^s  rest  their  partic- 
ular sentiments  ?  That  some  maintain  the  universal 
salvation  of  deceased  infants  on  unscriptural  grounds 
is  true,  but  is  this  a  reason  for  charging  all  who  hold 
the  sentiment  with  those  errors,  in  the  face  of  evidence 
sufficient  to  satisfy  every  candid  mind,  that  they  rest  it 
on  grounds  altogether  different  ?  It  were  well,  if  some 
of  the  friends  of  Calvinism  would  take  the  advice 

*  Historic  proof  of  the  Calvinism  of  the  Church  of  England.     In- 
trod.  p.  78. 

t  Toplady's  Works,  vol.  i.  pp.  101,  207,  208. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  43 

given  by  Bishop  Horsley  to  his  enemies,  '  Take  special 
care  before  you  aim  your  shafts  at  Calvinism  that  you 
know  what  it  is.'  Not  a  few  who  profess  to  hold  that 
system,  are  but  Uttle  acquainted  with  it,  and  confound 
certain  illegitimate  inferences  drawn  from  it,  with  hos- 
tihty  to  the  system  itself,  while  Anti-Calvinists  continue 
to  charge  the  friends  of  Calvinism  with  holding  those 
inferences  in  the  face  of  repeated  denials.  This  is 
very  unfair.  I  refer  here,  in  particular,  to  the  doctrine 
of  sovereign  reprobation,  and  to  what  is  connected  with 
it.  It  is  a  fact,  too,  that  some  who  wish  to  be  consid- 
ered the  only  friends  of  Calvinism,  hold  sentiments 
which  were  by  no  means  held  by  Calvin,  and  not 
seldom  represent  sentiments  as  Arminian,  which  were 
actually  held  by  him.  In  a  word,  let  candour  be  ex- 
ercised, and  never  let  those  be  blamed  as  inimical  to  a 
particular  system,  who  may  be  unwilling  to  admit 
some  unjust  and  exceptionable  inferences,  which  have 
been  rashly  drawn  from  it,  because  they  appear  to 
them  injurious  excrescences,  that  deform  and  weaken 
its  strength." 

There  is,  then,  every  thing  to  carry  the  arguments 
of  the  following  chapters  with  power  and  consolation 
to  the  heart  of  every  bereaved  parent,  and  thus  to  shed 
the  bright  beams  of  hope  upon  the  gloom  of  his  sor- 
row, to  take  from  the  death  of  infants  its  sting,  to  dis- 
arm their  grave  of  all  victory,  and  to  enable  their  pa- 
rents to  rejoice  in  the  comfortable  hope  that  they  are 
exalted  to  glory,  honour,  and  immortahty. 

I  never  grieve  to  see  an  infant  die. 

Or  mark  the  frost  of  death  within  its  eye ; 

'Tis  but  a  messenger — a  welcome  guest — 

To  hie  its  spirit  to  the  world  of  rest. 

Who,  who  would  weep,  or  mournful  heave  a  sigh, 

To  watch  its  progress  to  its  native  sky  ? 


^      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Who,  who  would  have  it  longer  stay  on  earth, 
When  there  awaits  it  an  immortal  birth  ? 

Sin,  with  its  dreadful  impress,  marks  our  race, 
In  every  form  its  ravages  we  trace ; 
From  earliest  dawn  of  life  to  hoary  age. 
The  fell  destroyer  vents  his  fiercest  rage. 
All,  all  must  die — then  wherefore  long  delay. 
And  whence  the  wish  to  dwell  in  cumbrous  clay? 
Why  cling  to  life  with  such  tenacity. 
When  death  but  gives  a  blest  eternity? 

The  gospel  consolation  meets  us  here. 
To  banish  doubt  and  quell  each  anxious  fear : 
"  As  little  children  such  the  kingdom  is, 
Forbid  them  not,  for  they  shall  live  in  bliss." 
Blest  promise  to  the  heart  oppressed  with  pain ; 
Ouf  loss  shall  prove  but  their  eternal  gain ; 
And  while  we  shed  the  sympathetic  tear. 
They  shall  arise,  and  "  read  their  title  clear !" 

I  saw  a  precious  babe  convulsed  with  pain ; 

I  marked  the  heaving  of  its  little  breast ; 

I  saw  it  wither,  waste,  and  die, 

But  knew  its  spirit  panted  for  the  sky. 

Say,  shall  we  mourn  for  such  a  loss  as  this  ? 

Say,  would  we  stay  it  from  immortal  bliss? 

Ah  !  no  ;  but  when  life's  dullsome  dreams  are  o'er, 

We'll  join  it,  there  to  dwell  forever  more. 

"  The  death  of  children,"  to  use  the  words  of  Dr. 
Lawson,  another  Calvinistic  and  old  divine,  "  puts  a 
final  period  to  all  that  we  can  do  for  them,  but  our 
grief  on  this  occasion  is  effectually  counterbalanced  by 
the  consciousness  that  we  have  earnestly  endeavoured 
to  do  what  lay  in  our  power  whilst  they  were  with  us; 
especially  when  we  have  good  reason  to  hope  that  our 
prayers  for  them  have  not  been  rejected,  and  that  Di- 
vine Mercy  led  them  safe  through  Ufe  and  death  to  a 
world  from  whence  they  would  not  for  a  thousand 
worlds  return.     I  have  lost  for  the  rest  of  my  time  in 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  45 

this  world  some  children  whose  faces  I  always  beheld 
with  pleasure,  but  I  hope,  young  as  they  were,  they 
were  better  fitted  for  leaving  this  world  than  I  am. 
We  are  authorized  by  Scripture,  without  expecting  a 
revelation  from  God  respecting  their  state,  to  rejoice  in 
the  hope  that  they  are  sleeping  in  Jesus,  and  living 
with  him,  shall  be  brought  with  him  in  the  great  day 
ef  his  appearance."* 

Sure,  to  the  mansions  of  the  blest 

When  infant  innocence  ascends, 
Some  angel,  brighter  than  the  rest, 

The  spotless  spirit's  flight  attends. 
On  wings  of  ecstacy  they  rise, 

Beyond  where  world's  material  roll, 
Till  some  fair  sister  of  the  skies 

Receives  the  unpolluted  soul. 

That  inextinguishable  beam. 

With  dust  united  at  our  birth, 
Sheds  a  more  dim,  discoloured  gleam, 

The  more  it  lingers  upon  earth. 
Closed  in  this  dark  abode  of  clay. 

The  stream  of  glory  faintly  burns : — 
Not  unobserved,  the  lucid  ray 

To  its  own  native  fount  returns. 

But  when  the  Lord  of  mortal  breath 

Decrees  his  bounty  to  resume. 
And  points  the  silent  shaft  of  death 

Which  speeds  an  infant  to  the  tomb — 
No  passion  fierce,  nor  low  desire, 

Has  quenched  the  radiance  of  the  flame ; 
Back  to  its  God  the  living  fire 

Reverts,  unclouded  as  it  came. 

Fond  mourner  !  be  that  solace  thine  ! 

Let  Hope  her  healing  charm  impart, 
And  soothe,  with  melodies  divine. 

The  anguish  of  a  mother's  heart. 

*  Discourses,  p.  23. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

O,  think  !  the  darlings  of  thy  love, 

Divested  of  this  earthly  clod, 
Amid  unnumbered  saints  above. 

Bask  in  the  bosom  of  their  God. 

Of  their  short  pilgrimage  on  earth 

Still  tender  images  remain  : 
Still,  still  they  bless  thee  for  their  birth, 

Still  filial  gratitude  retain. 
Each  anxious  care,  each  rending  sigh, 

That  wrung  for  them  the  parent's  breast, 
Dwells  on  remembrance  in  the  sky, 

Amid  the  raptures  of  the  blest. 

O'er  thee,  with  looks  of  love,  they  bend ; 

For  thee  the  Lord  of  life  implore : 
And  oft  from  sainted  bliss  descend, 

Thy  wounded  quiet  to  restore. 
Oft  in  the  stillness  of  the  night, 

They  smooth  the  pillow  of  thy  bed, 
Oft  till  the  morn's  returning  light 

Still  watchful  hover  o'er  thy  head. 

Hark  !  in  such  strains  as  saints  employ, 

They  whisper  to  thy  bosom  peace  ; 
Calm  the  perturbed  heart  to  joy, 

And  bid  the  streaming  sorrow  cease. 
Then  dry,  henceforth,  the  bitter  tear : 

Their  part  and  thine  inverted  see. 
Thou  wert  their  guardian  angel  here. 

They  guardian  angels  now  to  thee  1 


CHAPTER  III 


rHE    NECESSITY   FOR    DISCUSSING   THE   DOCTRINE   OF    THE    SAL- 
VATION  OF    INFANTS. 


O  Lord,  the  message  from  thy  throne  has  come  I 
We  hear  thy  voice,  and  give  her  back  to  thee  ; 

With  tears  we  lay  our  darling  in  the  tomb  ; 
In  faith  her  spirit  at  thy  feet  we  see. 


Death  is  one  of  the  profoundest  mysteries  of  Nature. 
With  all  the  light  which  science  has  thrown  around  it ; 
with  all  the  increased  knowledge  we  have  acquired  of 
its  phenomena ;  Ufe,  in  its  origin,  in  its  nature,  and  in 
its  cessation,  remains  as  incomprehensible  as  ever.  We 
stand  amazed  at  the  entrance  into  our  world  of  a  new,  liv- 
ing, and  active  being — the  miniature  of  man — breathing 
the  same  air.  and  exercising  the  same  functions,  inca- 
pable of  instruction,  and  yet  displaying  the  most  per- 
fect knowledge,  wholly  unable  to  help  himself,  and  yet 
exhibiting  the  most  inimitable  skill.  How  then  are  we 
filled  with  horror,  when  that  same  being,  even  in  its 
beauty,  "  a  thing  all  health  and  glee,"  is  prostrated  by 
some  invisible  power,  upturns  its  glazed  eye,  and  with 
the  quivering  of  its  soft  lip  and  the  convulsion  of  its 
httle  Hmbs,  sinks  into  the  waxen  form  of  death. 

Were  an  inhabitant  of  some  other  world,  where  im- 
mortality was  the  duration  of  existence,  and  perpetual 
bloom  the  appearance  of  the  outward  form,  by  any 
chance  to  visit  this  ;  probably  he  w^ould  first  be  attract- 
ed by  the  glory  of  that  same  God  he  had  ever  worship- 
ped, written,  as  it  is,  in  such  lines  of  magnificence  and 


48       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

beauty  upon  the  Iieavens  above,  and  upon  the  firma- 
ment around.  The  same  wisdom,  goodness  and  pow- 
er, in  which  he  had  ever  rejoiced,  would  shine  forth  re- 
splendently  from  every  star,  and  from  every  mountain, 
lake  and  valley.  The  same  chorus  sung  by  those 
above,  ascribing  glory,  honour,  majesty  and  praise  untG 
God  Most  High,  would  echo  from  the  earth  beneath, 
and  swell  the  anthem  of  the  skies.  He  would  still  feel 
in  his  own  breast  the  spirit  of  piety — the  spirit  of  joy, 
and  peace,  and  devotion  ; — and  he  would  still  feel  that 
he  moved  amid  the  wonders  of  His  creating  hand  who 
fills  the  univ^erse  with  his  praise. 

But  what  would  be  the  emotions  of  this  stranger, 
when  he  turned  his  gaze  towards  the  inhabitants  of 
this  fair  creation  ?  When  he  saw  sickness  or  pain — 
bed-ridden  decrepitude,  or  helpless  old  age, — when  he 
heard  groans  and  lamentations,  the  voice  of  misery  and 
care,  or  the  loud  wail  of  bereavement — in  every  house- 
hold ?  When  he  beheld  the  moving  form  of  strength, 
and  beauty,  and  intelligence,  withered  by  the  blast  of 
death,  become  pale,  motionless,  and  ghastly — how  great 
would  be  his  unutterable  terror  !  Surely  he  would  at 
once  conclude  that  they  were  a  race  of  bold  and  hard- 
ened sinners,  against  whom  the  fierceness  of  the  anger 
of  the  Almighty  was  poured  out. 

But  when  he  observed  yet  longer — when  he  saw  man 
in  the  innocency  of  his  first  young  dawn,  with  rosy  lip 
and  cherub  eye,  his  countenance  radiant  with  smiles, 
and  his  heart  filled  with  love,  as  yet  unconscious  of  his 
relation  to  his  God,  and  incapable  of  wilfully  offending 
him, — when  he  saw  this  young  voyager  not  yet  well 
launched  upon  the  ocean  of  life — wrecked  upon  its  very 
coast,  cast  among  its  roughest  breakers,  shattered  by  its 
fiercest  storms,  and  borne  into  eternity  by  most  disas- 
trous calamity ; — when  he  saw  the  cradle,  instead  of 


SOLACE    FOR,    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  49 

being  a  place  of  rest,  converted  into  a  little  hospital,  and 
its  babe,  instead  of  a  gentle  sleeper  laughing  through 
its  sweet  dreams  of  yet  untasted  happiness,  a  sufferer 
torn  and  agonized  by  writliing  and  convulsive  torture, 
with  the  cup  of  life  dashed  from  its  hps  ere  it  had  well 
tasted  of  its  hopes  or  its  blessings — would  he  not  ex- 
claim, "  My  Cod,  and  can  it  be  !  Is  not  this  thine  own 
creation  ?  Are  not  these  tl dne  own  offspring  ?  If,  then, 
parents  are  wicked,  and  deserve  thy  wrath,  yet  surely 
these  'innocents'  might  be  spared  their  sufferings. 
Wliat  fiend  of  darkness  has  gained  possession  of  this 
earth,  and  fixed  liere  his  empire  of  horrid  cruelty  ? 
'Thy  judgments,  O  Lord,  are  a  great  deep.  They  are 
unsearchable,  and  past  finding  out.' " 

Truly,  these  feelings  would  not  be  strange  in  such  a 
visitant,  at  such  a  sight.  They  would  be  our  own, 
were  we  not  familiarized  to  such  scenes  of  woe.  For, 
while  reason  might  teach  us  that  it  was  well  for  those 
Avho  had  outlived  the  activities  and  the  joys  of  life  to  leave 
it- -that  they  were  happy  who,  ere  that  period  of  imbe- 
ciUty  arrived,  had  retired  from  its  coming  ills ; — yet 
never  could  we  learn  from  reason  alone  that  it  was  right, 
or  that  it  was  well  for  those  wlio  had  passed  through 
the  painful  entrance  of  life,  and  had  not  yet  awakened  to 
the  reahzation  of  its  joys,  to  be  driven  through  its  still 
more  painful  exit.  No  !  Death  is  the  profoundest 
mystery  of  Nature,  and  the  sufferings  and  death  of  in- 
fants the  profoundest  mystery  of  Death. 

Nay,  my  reader,  have  you  not  yourself  felt,  in  some 
hour  of  sad  bereavement,  the  unsearchable  mystery  of 
this  dispensation  of  Providence  ?  I  address  myself  now 
to  those  who,  like  myself,  are  the  parents  of  children 
who  were^  but  «re  not.  When  in  the  very  fulness  of 
life,  while  buoyant  with  playful  mirth,  and  drinking  in 
the  promise  of  a  happy  future,  and  while  forming  to  you 


'50 


SOLACI-:    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


the  objects  of  so  many  tender  solicitudes  and  fond  hopes, 
you  saw  your  beloved  child  bowed  down  by  the  pres- 
ence of  some  sudden  disease  ; — when  unable  to  tell  its 
woes  you  savv^  its  playfulness  forsake  it ;  its  smiles,  one 
by  one,  depart ;  the  happy  expression  of  its  sweet 
countenance  give  place  to  one  of  painfulness ;  its 
strength  gradually  fail ;  its  voice  become  too  weak  to 
utter  even  the  lisping  name  of  its  loved  nurse  or  parent ; 
— when  you  watched  beside  the  little  sufferer,  incredu- 
lous that  it  could  die,  as  it  sunk  rapidly  into  insensibil- 
ity, until  at  last  the  glazed  eye,  the  unmoving  chest,  the 
pulseless  arm,  and  the  inexpressible  solemnity  of  Death 
startled  you  into  the  awful  truth  that  it  was  gone  ; — 
oh  !  in  that  hour  of  intensest  agony,  did  there  not  seem 
to  fall  upon  a  world,  ere  while  fair  and  bright,  one  wide 
covering  of  gloom  ?  Did  there  not  appear,  amid  the 
busiest  haunts  of  men,  to  be  the  silence  of  desolation  ? 
Did  not  life  cease  to  have  any  charms,  fortune  any  at- 
tractions, and  earth  itself  any  possible  endurance  ?  Did 
not  the  full  heart  swell  with  unholy  murmuring  against 
Him  who  made  you,  and  who  made  your  offspring, 
only  to  make  you,  as  the  Evil  One  would  then  suggest, 
miserable  by  their  destruction  ?  In  such  circumstances 
a  desolate  father,  even  with  christian  hopes,  but  not  in 
the  exercise  of  christian  faith,  would  say, 

"  For  oh  !  to  dry  a  mother's  tears, 

Another  babe  may  bloom. 
But  what  remains  on  earth  to  him, 

Whose  last  is  in  the  tomb  ! 
To  think  his  child  is  blest  above, 

To  pray  their  parting  brief, 
These,  these  may  soothe^  but  death  alone, 

Can  heal  a  father's  grief"* 

•  A  Father's  Grief,  in  Poems,  by  the  Rev.  T.  Dale. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       61 

Is  it  any  Avonder  that,  in  such  a  time  of  human 
weakness  and  woe,  when  under  no  guidance  or  restraint 
from  the  truths  of  a  heavenly  faith,  the  Heathen  moth- 
er will  mangle  herself  with  torture,  will  dishevel  her- 
self of  all  future  charms,  and  cut  herself  off,  if  not  from 
Ufe,  yet  from  all  future  interest  in  it?*     The  sorrow  of 

*  Thisdescriptiou  will  not  appear  exaggerated  to  those  who  have  had 
ail  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  workings  of  nature  in  the  bereaved 
mother,  when  its  violence  is  not  restrained  by  the  powerful  hand  of  re- 
ligious principle,  or  bv  the  presence  of  otlier  motives  exercising  a  similar 
control.  A  father,  who  was  quite  respectable  and  intelligent,  but  not 
pious,  once  said  to  me,  when  his  child  had  been  taken  from  him,  "  My 
God,  what  have  I  done  against  thee,  to  desen^e  this  at  thy  hands." 
How  frequently  are  parents  found  under  similar  circumstances,  altogeth- 
er unwilling  to  give  up  their  children,  and  v/hoily  unable  to  acknowledge 
the  wisdom  or  goodness  which  led  to  their  removal.  I  have  seen  a 
mother  weep  at  the  recollection  of  an  infant  which  had  been  separated 
from  her  many  3'ears  previously.  '•  It  is,"  says  Doddridge,  "to  a  pa- 
rent indeed  such  a  cutting  stroke,  that  I  wonder  not  if  nature  shrink 
back  at  the  very  mention  of  it."* 

"  When  once  the  mind  has  surmounted  the  difficulties  that  press  upon 
it,"  says  a  bereaved  parent,  "  it  acts  witli  increased  A^igour  and  a  more 
enlarged  freedom.  At  first  the  attention  becomes  riveted  to  the  mass 
of  breathless  clay.  With  a  too  intense,  but  pardonable  fondness,  it 
clings,  as  Doddridge  tenderly  expresses  it,  to  '  the  darling  dust.'  There 
is  the  image  of  your  child  ;  and  what  a  ray  of  comfort  darts  across  the 
deep  sorrow  of  the  soul,  when  you  can  see  or  say,  or  hear  others  say, 
'  she  loaks  natural ."  Not  long  will  that  be  true.  Those  lips  once  in- 
stinct with  the  warm  colouring  of  life,  are  now  cold  and  colourless.  Would 
they  would  remain  even  so  !  But  no,  they  must  decay,  and  be  hidden 
in  the  dust.  The  cheek  that  was  often  pressed  to  yours  in  the  ardour  of 
filial  love,  has  now  on  it  only  the  marble  chill  of  death.  Oh,  how  the 
heart  writhes  in  a  paroxysm  of  agony,  when  the  truth  and  reality  of  the 
thing  are  felt.  Would  it  were  literal  marble,  that  the  heart  might  love 
ihat ;  but  no,  the  decay  of  the  grave  must  deform  and  dissolve  the  fair 
clay.  The  siumberer  will  not  indeed  be  sensible  to  this  process,  but  the 
livmg  know  it.  The  father  knows  that  the  cherished  form  of  his  child 
moulders  in  the  grave.  The  mother  knows  that  the  loved  one,  whom 
she  bore,  and  nursed,  and  fondled,  is  now  buried  out  of  her  sight.  Such 
is  the  sad  necessity  of  death  I  And  it  is  on  these  subjects  that  the  mind 
is  too  apt  to  dwell." 

Now,  if  such  is  the  truth  in  reference  to  christian  communities,  how 
much  more  violent  must  be  the  ebullitions  of  grief  in  the  hearts  of  heath- 
en parents,  when  vice  and  superstitious  belief  ha\»e  not  extinguished  all 
maternal  affection.  That  parental  feeling  survives  amid  the  wreck  of 
every  better  principle,  and  actuates  the  bosom  of  the  pagan  mother  as 

*  D-..J<irli!Lre's  Work',  vol.  iii.  p.  3^5. 


5i       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

the  world  worketh  death.  Its  darkness  deepens  into 
the  midnight  of  despair.     And  the  hopes  of  the  glorious 

far  as  she  is  permitted  to  manifest  it,  as  powerfully  as  that  of  the  more 
civilized  and  enlightened  parent.  I  might  bring  many  instances  to  prove 
this.  The  following  relation  by  Mr.  Rich,  in  his  Narrative  of  a  Resi- 
dence in  Koordi&tan,  will  be  regarded  as  beyond  any  possible  misinter- 
pretation.    Describing  a  Mnssuhnan  acquaintance,  he  says, 

"  Mahmood  Pasha  is,  indeed,  a  very  estimable  man,  and  I  shall  al- 
ways think  of  him  with  affection.  His  very  countenance  is  indicative 
of  purity,  of  candour,  and  simplicity.  I  never  expected  to  meet  with 
such  a  man  in  the  East.  I  fear  many  such  are  net  to  be  met  with  in 
better  climes.  There  is  a  melancholy  and  a  tenderness  in  his  character 
M'hich  render  him  very  interesting.  He  is  all  feeling.  The  death  of  his 
son  he  will  not  readily  get  over  ;  and  I  will  confidently  assert,  that  no 
native  of  the  East  ever  loved  his  wife  and  children  as  he  does.  Yester- 
day, he  went  into  the  harem  for  the  first  time  since  the  unhappy  event. 
A  child  of  his  brother's  met  him,  and  called  him  father.  That  name, 
and  the  infantine  voice  in  which  it  was  pronounced,  were  too  much  for 
him  ;  he  shrieked  and  fell  senseless  to  the  ground.  It  must  be  recollect- 
ed that  all  grief  is  reprobated  by  the  Mahometan  religion,  which  preach- 
es only  apathy  and  sternness;  and  excess  of  feeling  for  a  woman  or 
a  child  is  universally  despised  by  the  followers  of  Islam." 

To  this  affecting  narration  may  be  added  the  testimony  of  Euripides, 
who,  in  "  The  Supplicants,"  represents  the  Iphisu  thus  speaking: 

"  Observing  other  houses 
Flourish  with  children,  I  grew  fond  of  them, 
And  wish'd  to  be  a  father ;  had  I  known. 
Had  I  experienced  what  a  father  feels 
When  of  a  child  bereaved,  I  had  not  fallen 
Into  this  present  woe.     I  wish'd,  I  gained 
A  Son  with  every  excellence  adorned  ; 
Of  him  I  am  bereaved. 

What  shall  this  wretch  now  do  ?     Should  I  return 
To  my  own  house  ?     Sad  desolation  there 
I  shall  behold,  to  sink  my  soul  with  grief."* 

The  chorus  of  bereaved  Argivc  mothers  then  take  up  the  lamenta- 
tion : 

"  Look  here,  look  there  ;  the  ashes  of  my  sou 
Warm  from  the  funeral  pile  they  bring; 

Support  me. 
My  female  train,  support  my  feeble  age. 
Grief  for  my  son,  long  rankling  at  my  heart, 
Hath  wasted  all  my  strength  ;  a  greater  grief 
Can  mortals  know,  thro'  all  the  various  ills 

»  Pottor's  Tnmslaiinn,  vol.  ii.  p.  45. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       53 

gospel  of  the  blessed  God  form  the  only  anchor  which 
can  hold  fast  the  soul  amid  the  swelUngs  of  such  a 
tempest. 

Of  life  than  this,  to  see  their  children  dead. 

*  *  *  * 

Where  now  are  all  a  mother's  nnrsinv  cares, 
Her  watchings  o'er  her  son,  her  sleepless  nights, 
And  the  fond  kiss  on  his  dear  cheek  impressed  ? 
All  lost ;  thy  sons  too,  thou  sad  mother,  lost ; 
The  ethereal  air  now  has  them,  from  the  flames 
Nought  but  this  little  heap  of  ashes  left. 
Too  hastily  to  Pluto's  halls  they  sunk."* 

Once  more,  in  his  Rhesus,  Euripides  thus  represents  the  muse  as 
speaking : 

"  Ye  pangs  that  rend  a  parent's  heart,  of  ills 
To  mortals  the  severest,  he  who  deems 
Rightly  of  you,  will  childless  pass  through  life, 
Nor  shed  a  parent  s  tear  on  a  child's  tomb."* 

This  accords  with  the  account  given  of  Octavia,  sister  of  the  Emper- 
or Augustus,  the  death  of  whose  son  Marcellus,  threw  her  into  a  state 
of  despair,  from  which  she  never  recovered  during  the  twelve  years  of 
mourning  in  which  she  survived  her  child.  Cicero  himself,  prince  of 
philosophers  as  he  was,  when  deprived  of  his  favourite  daughter  Tullia, 
lost  all  command  of  himself,  gave  himself  up  to  the  most  violent  and  in- 
curable grief,  and  had  determined  to  erect  a  temple  to  her  memory,  and 
worship  her  as  a  goddess. 

We  will  close  this  long  note  with  the  following  piece  from  Mrs.  Sig- 
ourney,  which  will  at  the  same  time,  inspire  gratitude,  and  lead  to  pray- 
erful eflforts  for  the  unsolaced  heathen : 


THE  AFRICAN  MOTHER  AT  HER  DAUGHTER  S  GRAVE. 

Some  of  the  Pagan  Africans  visit  the  burial  places  of  their  departed 
relatives,  bearing  food  and  drink  ;  and  mothers  have  been  known,  for  a 
long  course  of  years,  to  bring,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  their  annual  obla- 
tions to  the  tombs  of  their  children. 

Daughter  ! — I  bring  thee  food. 

The  rice-cake  pure  and  white. 
The  cocoa,  with  its  milky  blood. 

Dates  and  pomegranates  bright ; 
The  orange  in  its  gold. 

Fresh  from  thy  favourite  tree, 


•  See  also  Todd's  Truth  Made  Simple,  p.  89,  90. 

5* 


64  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

"  I  know  not  a  thought,"  says  Doddridge,  "  in  the 
whole  compass  of  nature,  that  hath  a  more  powerful 
tendency  than  this,  to  produce  suspicious  notions  of 
God,  and  a  secret  aUenation  of  heart  from  him."  A 
very  respectable  gentleman,  not  a  professor  of  religion, 
who  lost  a  little  son,  said  to  me,  "  I  have  tried  to  philos- 
ophise on  the  subject,  but  philosophy  will  not  do."  The 
anguage  of  nature,  on  this  subject,  is  thus  spoken  by 


Nuts  in  their  ripe  and  husky  fold, 
Dearest !  I  spread  for  thee. 

Year  after  year  I  tread 

Thus  to  thy  low  retreat, 
But  now  the  snow-hairs  mark  my  head. 

And  age  enchains  my  feet ; 
Oh  !  many  a  change  of  woe 

Hath  dimmed  thy  spot  of  birth, 
Since  first  my  gushing  tears  did  flow 

O'er  this  thy  bed  of  earth. 

But  thou  art  slumbering  deep, 

And  to  my  wildest  cry, 
When  pierced  with  agony  I  cry, 

Dost  render  no  reply. 
Daughter  !  my  youthful  pride, 

Tlae  idol  of  my  eye, 
Why  did'st  thou  leave  thy  mother's  side 

Beneath  these  sands  to  lie  ? 

Long  o'er  the  hopeless  grave. 

Where  her  lost  darling  slept, 
Invoking  gods  that  could  not  save 

That  pagan  mourner  wept. 
Oh  !  for  some  voice  of  power 

To  soothe  her  bursting  sighs, 
*'  There  is  a  resurrection  hour ! 

Thy  daughter's  dust  shall  rise  !" 

Christians ! — ye  hear  the  cry 

From  heathen  Afric's  strand, 
Haste  !  lift  salvation's  banner  high 

O'er  that  benighted  land  ; 
With  faith  that  claims  the  skies 

Her  misery  control, 
And  plant  the  hope  that  never  dies, 

Deep  in  her  tear-wet  soul. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  55 

Lamb,  when  describing  '^  a  floweret  crushed  in  the  bud, 
in  her  coffin  lying:"  he  says, 

"  Riddle  of  destiny,  who  can  show. 
What  thy  short  visit  meant,  or  know 

Wliat  thy  errand  here  below  ? 

*  #  #  # 

The  economy  of  heaven  is  dark,"  &c* 

Could  we  be  present  in  every  part  of  the  globe,  we 
should  find  that  each  day  ushered  its  thousands  into 
being,  and  conducted  its  thousands  out  of  it; — we 
should  find  that  of  all  who  are  born  heirs  of  mortahty, 
one  half  are  cut  off  from  their  inheritance  by  an  early 
death,  and  that  thus  one  half  of  the  entire  race  of  man, 
from  its  beginning  to  its  close,  never  live  to  be  men.t 
Beautiful  as  the  dew-drops  of  the  morning,  they  pass 
like  them  from  earth.  Fragrant  as  the  breath  of  spring, 
they  are  poisoned  by  the  torrid  rays  of  an  ungenial 
summer.  Lovely  as  the  lambkins,  bleating  after  their 
dams  upon  the  daisied  meadow,  they  are  led,  like  them, 
to  an  apparent  slaughter.  Mystery  of  mysteries  hid 
from  the  comprehension  of  reason,  hast  thou  ever  been 
made  known  to  man  ?  As  parents,  as  mothers  and  as 
fathers,  or  as  those  wlio  may  sustain  those  tender  rela- 
tions, as  relatives  and  friends,  we  are  all  deeply  interest- 
ed in  this  inquiry. 

"  Upon  the  palhd  face  of  the  dead  infant,  there  are 
awfully  mysterious  hieroglyphics,  which  reason  cannot 
decypher,  at  the  depth  of  which  nature  staggers  and 
grows  faint.  Christianity  alone  reads  them.  She  pours 
from  the  fountain  of  truth,  hving  light  into  each  dark 

*  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  409. 

t  "  We  find,"  says  Watts,  "  more  than  a  third  part  of  the  race  of 
man  dying  before  they  arrive  at  two  years  old,  and  about  half  before 
five."* 

♦  See  Philosophy  of  Death,  and  Quatelet's  Philosophy  of  Man. 


56       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

sj^mbol,  and  illuminates  it  with  the  rays  of  the  past, 
and  the  hghts  of  the  future,  showing  death  once  victo- 
rious by  sin,  but  now  for  ever  vanquished  by  Christ." 
Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  who,  by  the  gospel,  has  brought  to  us  that  hglit 
by  which  I  feel  that  I  can  confidently  sustain  the 
answer  I  would  give  to  the  interrogatory  of  such  a 
perplexed  inquirer.     Chiloren   are    taken   away 

IN  INFANCY  NOT  IN  ANGER,  BUT  IN  MERCY,  AND 
NOT     FOR     OUR     PUNISHMENT     MERELY,    BUT     MUCH 

MORE  FOR  OUR  GOOD.  Death  is  to  them  a  kindness, 
to  us  a  blessing.  They  are  removed  from  this  world 
in  mercy  to  them  and  in  goodness  to  us.  These  are 
the  two  points  to  which  I  shall  now  call  the  attention 
of  my  reader. 

Pray  unto  God,  my  friend,  that  these  considerations 
may  prove  comfortable  and  beneficial  to  your  disconso- 
late heart. 

I  cannot  make  him  dead  ! 

His  fair  sunshiny  head 
Is  ever  bounding  round  my  study  chair; 

Yet  when  my  eyes,  now  dim 

With  tears,  I  turn  to  him. 
The  vision  vanishes — he  is  not  there  ! 

I  walk  my  parlour  floor. 

And,  through  the  open  door, 
I  hear  a  foottall  on  the  chamber  stair  ; 

I'm  stepping  toward  the  hall, 

To  give  the  boy  a  call, 
And  then  bethink  me  that — he  is  not  there  ! 

I  tread  the  crowded  street, 

A  satchel'd  lad  I  meet. 
With  the  same  beaming  eyes  and  coloured  hair ; 

And,  as  he's  running  by. 

Follow  him  with  my  eye, 
Scarcely  believing  that — he  is  not  there ! 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       5T 

I  know  his  face  is  hid 

Under  the  coffin  lid ; 
Closed  are  his  eyes ;  cold  is  his  forehead  fair ; 

My  hand  that  marble  felt ; 

O'er  it  in  prayer  I  knelt; 
Yet  my  heart  whispers  that — he  is  not  there  ! 

I  cannot  make  him  dead  ! 

When  passing  by  his  bed, 
So  long  watched  over  with  parental  care, 

My  spirit  and  my  eye 

Seek  it  inquiringly, 
Before  the  thought  comes  that — he  is  not  there  ! 

When  at  the  cool,  grey  break 

Of  day,  from  sleep  I  wake. 
With  my  first  breathing  of  the  morning  air, 

My  soul  goes  up,  with  joy. 

To  Him  who  gave  my  boy ; 
Then  comes  the  sad  thought  that — he  is  not  there ! 

When  at  the  day's  calm  close. 

Before  we  seek  repose, 
I'm  with  his  mother,  offering  up  our  prayer, 

Whate'er  I  may  be  saying^ 

I  am,  in  spirit,  praying 
For  our  boy's  spirit,  though — he  is  not  there  1 

Not  there  ? — Where,  then,  is  he  ? 

The  form  I  used  to  see 
Was  but  the  raiment  that  he  used  to  wear. 

The  grave,  that  now  doth  press 

Upon  that  cast-ofF  dress. 
Is  but  his  wardrobe  locked : — he  is  not  there  I 


He  lives  ! — In  all  the  past 

He  lives ;  nor,  to  the  last. 
Of  seeing  him  again  will  I  despair ; 

In  dreams  I  see  him  now, 

And  on  his  angel  brow, 
I  see  it  written,  "  Thou  shalt  see  me  there !" 


58       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Yes,  we  all  live  to  God  ! 

Father,  thy  chastening  rod 
So  help  us,  thine  afflicted  ones,  to  bear, 

That  in  the  spirit  land, 

Meeting  at  thy  right  hand, 
'Twill  be  our  heaven  to  find  that — he  is  there  I 


CHAPTER   IV. 

CHILDREN  ARE  TAKEN  AWAY  IN  INFANCY  IN  MERCY  TO  THEM. 


When  the  Archangel's  trump  shall  blow, 

And  souls  to  bodies  join  ; 
Millions  shall  wish  their  lives  below 
Had  been  as  short  as  thine. 


It  will  be  our  object  in  this  chapter  to  show  that  the 
dispensation  of  Providence  by  which  children  are  re- 
moved in  infancy  is  ordered  in  merc}^  to  them. 

It  is  so,  considered  as  it  affects  them  temporally. 
Their  early  dismissal  from  all  the  pains  and  perils  of 
this  mortal  life,  is  a  manifestation  of  tenderness :  it 
shows  a  willingness  to  save  from  all  unnecessary  trial, 
and  an  unwillingness  needlessly  to  afflict. 

Life,  at  its  very  best  estate,  is  vanity.  In  its  full 
splendour  of  gaiety  it  is  "  vexation  of  spiriit."  When 
ambition  has  scaled  the  very  loftiest  height  of  its  proud- 
est aspiration,  it  feels  its  loneliness  and  misery  more 
keenly  than  ever. 

Ah  !  little  deemest  thou,  my  child, 
The  way  of  life  is  dark  and  wild ! 
Its  sunshine  but  a  light  whose  play, 
Serves  but  to  dazzle  and  betray ; 
Weary  and  long — its  end  the  tomb. 
Whose  darkness  spreads  her  wings  of  gloom, 
That  resting-place  of  things  which  live, 
The  goal  of  all  that  earth  can  give. 

So  universal  is  this  estimate  of  the  present  "  fashion 
of  this"  sin-ruined  "  world,"  that  even  heathen  philoso- 


60       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

phy  pronounced  the  early  dead  the  favourites  of  the 
Gods. 

Lady,  we  have  much  cause  to  thank  ourselves 
Touching  our  daughter  bless'd  ;  for  'mong  the  Gods 
Commercing  she  in  truth  resides.* 

The  Christian  dead,  then,  who  under  the  smiles  of 
Heaven  arc  early  delivered  from  this  vain  unsatisfying 
portion,  miserable  !  Tell  it  not  at  Rome,  or  Athens, 
lest  the  philosophers  of  Paganism  should  rejoice  over 
the  weakness  of  Christianity. 

The  great  proportion,  too,  of  those  who  do  live  to 
mature  years,  become  entirely  estranged  from  God,  and 
live  without  him,  and  without  hope  for  the  world  to 
come.  But  by  their  early  removal  from  the  tempta- 
tions arising  from  the  world,  the  tlesh  and  the  Devil, 
infants  are  forever  preserved  from  such  open  apostacy. 
Should  they,  on  the  other  hand,  he  supposed  to  live 
and  become  holy  and  devoted  Christians,  then  it  is  to 
be  remembered  that  in  this  world  "  the  righteous  shall 
have  tribulation,  for  through  much  tribulation  they 
must  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  they  must  suffer,  and 
then  enter  into  glory ;"  and  that  from  an  entrance  upon 
this  path  of  sorrow,  this  narrow  road,  this  way  of  the 
cross,  such  infants  are  forever  delivered. 

The  apprehension  of  coming  evils,  which,  like  ghosts, 
haunt  our  paths  and  mock  our  joys,  is  a  most  fruitful 
source  of  misery  to  man  ;  but  from  all  such  anticipa- 
tions of  distress,  whether  real  or  imaginary,  the  early 
dead  have  been  most  effectually  protected.  The  cold- 
ness of  those  who  should  have  been  our  warmest 
friends  ;  the  averted  countenance  of  those  who  had 
once  smiled  upon  us  in  perfect  love ;  and  the  estianged 

'♦  Etttipld.  Iphig.  1.  1804. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  61 

affections  of  the  heart  in  which  our  soul  had  found  its 
home ; — these,  oh  these,  are  some  of  the  bitterest  of 
earth's  many  disappointments.  The  infant  dead  ! — 
they  pass  from  love,  to  love ; — from  the  bosom  of  their 
earthly,  to  that  of  their  Heavenly  Parent ; — from  that 
love  which  is  the  only  bliss  of  time,  to  that  which  is 
the  rapture  of  heaven.  And  finally,  death  is  the  great 
tormentor  of  mankind,  through  fear  of  whom  men  are 
all  their  lives  subject  to  bondage,  and  by  whose  grim 
shadow  a  fearfulness  is  made  to  surprise  them  in  their 
most  gladsome  hours.  But  death  has  for  these,  no 
^ting.  The  grave  for  these,  is  encompassed  by  no 
shadows.  Eternity  frowns  upon  these  with  no  fore- 
tokenings  of  ill. 

Parents — art  thou  then  full  of  tears, 

Because  thy  child  is  free 
From  the  earthly  strifes,  and  human  fears 

Oppressive  even  to  thee? 
No  !  with  the  quiet  dead, 

Baby,  thy  rest  shall  be  ; 
Oh  !  many  a  weary  wight, 
Weary  of  life  and  light, 

Would  fain  he  down  with  thee. 

Considering,  then,  the  present  condition  of  human 
life — the  character  too  generally  acquired  by  those 
who  are  actors  on  its  stage  ;  the  peculiarly  trying  lot 
of  all  who  will  not  be  "  of  the  world,"  but  will  "  live 
above  it :"  that  self-tormenting  power  of  apprehending 
future  calamity  which  reason  gives  us ;  the  man)^  bitter 
trials  of  the  heart  which  every  one  who  trusts  in  man 
so  continually  experiences ;  and  the  awful  darkness 
which,  thick  as  Erebus,  sin  has  gathered  round  the 
dread  hour  of  human  dissolution  ; — and  can  we  not 
say,  that  the  arrangement  of  Providence,  by  which  one 
half  the  human  family  is  cut  off  from  the  possible  ex- 

6 


62       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

peiience  of  these  mortal  ills,  is  a  dispensation  of  mercy. 
This  is  our  conclusion  from  the  contemplation  of  hu- 
man life,  not  in  its  worst,  but  in  its  best  aspect,  not 
when  tried  with  more  than  usual  adversity,  but  in  its 
ordinary  state  of  mingled  good  and  evil.  We  have 
only  supposed  them  to  meet  that  current  which  all 
must  breast,  and  pointed  to  those  shocks  which  all  must 
encounter.  How  much  stronger,  then,  would  our  infer- 
ence be,  were  we  to  make  the  supposition  in  regard  to 
each  individual  child,  that  it  was  taken  away  from  the 
evil  to  come,  and  plucked  as  a  brand  out  of  that  fire 
of  evil  where  it  might  have  been  salted  with  the  fire 
of  guilt,  and  eventually  have  perished. 

^'  O  God,  spare  my  child  !"  were  the  words  of  an  af- 
fectionate and  almost  idolizing  mother,  as  she  bent  over 
the  side  of  her  dying  child.  The  little  suflferer,  uncon- 
scious of  its  situation,  was  in  a  burning  fever.  The 
sands  of  life  were  fast  running  out,  and  the  darting 
pain  seemed  well  nigh  to  rend  the  spirit  from  the  body. 
The  piteous  moan  pierced  the  heart  of  the  fond  mother, 
and  drove  her,  as  the  last  resort,  to  the  throne  of  grace, 
where  she  poured  out  her  soul  in  prayer  that  her  dar- 
ling might  be  spared. 

Nor  was  the  cry  unheeded.  She  heard  a  voice,  say- 
ing, "  Child  of  earth !  since  thou  art  unwilling  to  trust 
thine  offspring's  destiny  in  the  hands  of  thy  heavenly 
Father,  thy  prayer  is  answered.  His  fate  is  in  thy 
hands.     Whether  he  live  or  die,  is  for  thee  to  decide." 

A  momentary  thrill  of  joy  rushed  through  the  mo- 
ther's heart,  at  these  words  ;  but  it  was  only  momentary. 
She  felt  the  reproof.  "  Alas !"  she  exclaimed,  "  how 
shall  I  decide  the  fate  of  my  child  ?  Should  he  recover, 
perhaps  he  will  prove  a  bitter  curse  to  me  hereafter,  and 
he  may  bring  down  my  grey  hairs  to  the  grave.  But 
how  can  I  see  him  die,  when  it  is  in  my  power  to  save 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  63 

his  life  ?  O,  that  1  had  left  his  fate  with  him  who  gave 
him  to  me  !"  Filled  with  remorse  for  her  unwise  and 
undutiful  conduct,  she  again  betook  herself  to  prayer, 
beseeching  her  heavenly  Father  to  remove  from  her  so 
fearful  a  responsibility. 

Again  her  prayer  was  heard  and  answered :  "  O,  rash 
child  !  why  didst  thou  repine  at  thy  lot  ?  Couldst 
thou  look  into  futurity,  and  behold  thy  child  in  the 
years  of  manhood  1  Or  couldst  thine  eye  pierce  the 
vale  of  eternity,  and  behold  the  scenes  that  await  him 
there  ?  Why,  then,  didst  thou  not,  like  a  confiding 
child,  submit  to  the  Avill  of  thy  Father,  knowing  that 
he  ^vill  do  only  that  which  is  for  thy  good  ?  Thou  hast 
prayed  to  be  dehvered  from  this  responsibihty ;  thy 
prayer  is  answered.  Go,  and  learn  from  this  never  to 
repine  at  the  allotments  of  Providence." 

The  child  died ;  and  as  the  mother  took  her  last 
look,  and  then  resigned  him  to  the  grave,  she  meekly 
adopted  the  language  of  one  who  had  drank  deep  of 
the  bitter  cup  of  affliction,—"  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord." 

And  now  let  us  consider  this  dispensation  as  it  affects 
infants  eternally,  and  we  shall  find  as  indubitable  evi- 
dence that  it  is  grounded  in  mercy  to  them. 

Revelation  is  the  only  source  of  our  knowledge  of 
eternity.  The  ignorance  and  helplessness  of  human 
reason,  and  of  all  merely  human  research,  we  have  al- 
ready exposed.  To  scan  the  ways  of  God,  to  fathom 
the  depths  of  his  judgments,  or  understand  the  mys- 
tery of  his  moral  government — these  are  wholly  impo- 
tent. They  are  no  better  than  the  magicians  of  Pha- 
raoh, or  the  astrologers  of  Belshazzar,  humbled  and 
confounded  before  the  stupendous  mysteries  of  heaven. 
It  is  then  "  to  the  law  and  to  the  testimony"  we  must 


64       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

look  for  any  guidance  in  this  high  path  of  investiga- 
tion. And  here  must  we  call  to  mind  the  nature  of 
that  revelation,  as  intended  not  to  make  known  the 
whole  compass  of  God's  divine  proceedings,  but  only  so 
much  of  his  ways  as  are  necessary  for  man,  in  his 
present  temporary  state.  It  is  a  lamp  hung  up  mid- 
w^ay  between  earth  and  heaven,  to  guide  from  the 
darkness  of  the  one,  to  the  glory  of  the  other ; — it  is 
not  that  heaven  itself,  in  all  the  fulness  of  its  splen- 
dours, or  the  extent  of  its  administrations,  brought 
down  to  the  comprehension  of  man. 

To  whom  then  does  this  revelation  directly  and  spe- 
cially address  itself?  The  answer  will  be  found  by 
considering  its  precepts,  its  duties,  its  ordinances,  its 
threatenings,  and  its  announcements  of  future  retribu- 
tion. Its  precepts  address  themselves  to  those  who  can 
understand ; — its  duties  are  enjoined  upon  those  who 
can  obey ; — its  ordinances  are  adapted  to  those  who  have 
knowledge  to  discern  and  improve  them ; — its  threaten- 
ings strike  terror  into  hearts  capable  of  despising 
them ; — and  its  future  judgment  is  a  day  of  destiny  to 
all  the  workers  of  iniquity,  to  all  the  rejectors  of  mercy. 
It  is  then  at  once  apparent,  that  the  immediate  and  di- 
rect bearing  of  the  annunciations  of  revelation  is  upon 
adults,  and  not  upon  infants.  The  Bible  was  written 
for  adults,  and  the  Gospel  proclaimed  to  adults,  though 
the  blessings  they  announce  are  designed  for  all.  The 
character,  condition,  and  prospects  of  adults,  and  not 
of  infants,  form,  therefore,  the  burden  of  revelation. 
Their  condition,  considered  as  living  and  dying,  while 
merely  infants,  is  not  its  subject  matter.  Infants  are 
necessarily  referred  to,  but  only  incidentally,  as  con- 
nected with  the  great  business  of  this  heavenly  mes- 
sage. If  then  there  is  no  distinct  declaration  in  the 
Bible  militating  against  the  salvation  of  infants,  when 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  65 

dying  as  such,  that  salvation  we  may  regard  as  certain, 
since  infants  can  never  violate  a  precept,  neglect  a  duty, 
despise  an  ordinance,  provoke  a  threatening,  or  incur  a 
judgment  of  this  holy  book. 

Inasmuch,  then,  as  Revelation  addresses  itself  dis- 
tinctly and  immediately  to  those  who  are  capable  of 
understanding  and  obeying  it : — it  is  all  important  to 
inquire  how  far  children,  as  such,  are  similar  in  their 
circumstances  and  relations,  to  those  of  mature  years. 
They  are  similar,  in  their  relation  to  Adam  as  the  great 
representative  of  the  human  family,  for  '•  in  Adam  all 
die,"  and  '•  death  has  come  upon  all  men,  even  upon 
those  who  have  not  sinned  after  the  similitude  of 
Adam's  transgression,  because  all  have  sinned."  They 
are  similar,  inasmuch  as  they  are  like  fully  grown  men, 
mortal.  "  It  is  appointed  unto  them"  as  well  as  unto  all 
others  "  once  to  die."  There  is  one  event  to  the  aged 
and  to  the  young,  to  the  child  of  a  span  long,  and  the 
man  a  hundred  years  old  :— "  they  must  lie  down  ahke 
in  the  grave  and  the  worms  cover  them."  They  are 
similar  to  men  also,  in  that  depravity  of  nature,  which 
results  from  the  withdrawment  of  those  chartered  ben- 
efits forfeited  by  Adam,  as  the  representative  of  the  hu- 
man family  ;  for  "  they  are  born  in  sin,"  and  are  "  chil- 
dren of  wrath,"  the  "natural  heart  being  enmity  to 
God."  They  are,  I  again  remark,  similar  to  men  in 
their  helplessness  ;  in  their  entire  inability  to  change 
their  own  nature,  alter  their  own  wills,  or  transform 
their  own  hearts  into  the  image  and  likeness  of  God. 
They  are  similar  also  in  their  ignorance  of  the  true 
God,  of  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  has  sent,  of  the  way  of 
salvation,  and  of  eternal  life ;  for  "  the  natural  heart 
understandeth  not  the  things  of  God,  neither  can  it  do 
so,  for  they  are  spiritually  discerned."  They  are  sim- 
ilar, in  their  capacity  for  progressive  improvement,  being 


66       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

destined  to  an  interminable  being,  with  powers  which 
are  illimitable  in  their  exercise.  And  they  are  similar, 
in  their  susceptibilities  of  happiness,  these  being  always 
measured  by  the  degree  of  their  advancement 

Such  are  the  important  points  of  similarity  between 
infants  and  those  in  mature  life.  How  far  then  will 
this  similarity  involve  infants  in  the  awful  responsibili- 
ty and  fearful  hazards  connected  with  such  a  condition 
of  guilt,  sinfulness  and  degradation  ?  That  it  would 
have  been  equitable  in  God,  apart  from  the  considera- 
tion of  the  plan  of  salvation,  to  include  infants  in  the 
consequences  of  the  fall,  and  to  involve  them  in  the 
common  ruin  of  their  entire  species,  we  cannot,  for  a 
moment,  doubt ;  because  we  see,  in  fact,  that  they  are 
so  involved  and  made  to  experience  the  bitterness  of  its 
sad  results,  as  far  as  this  involves  temporal  suffering 
and  death.  But,  in  such  a  case,  we  may  imagine  that 
none  would  have  died  in  mere  infancy,  but  that  all 
would  have  been  permitted  to  grow  up  to  a  period  of 
perfect  moral  agency,  and  to  act  out  their  own  charac- 
ter of  vile  depravity  ;  and  that  all  men  would  have 
been  put  under  an  equal  lot,  been  allowed  an  equal  op- 
portunity of  receiving  or  rejecting  the  gospel,  and  had 
their  fate  determined  under  a  perfectly  equal  adminis- 
tration. 

The  Adamic  constitution  cannot,  however,  in  fact  or 
argument,  be  disconnected  from  the  Messianic  constitu- 
tion. The  federal  relation  of  the  first  Adam,  cannot 
be  severed  from  the  federal  relation  of  the  second 
Adam,  The  one  was  introductory  to  the  other  ; — the 
one  was  supplementary  to  the  other.  The  one  was 
never  designed  to  exist  without  the  other,  nor  the 
evils  consequent  upon  the  one  to  be  endured,  without 
the  more  abounding  blessings  of  the  other.  When 
God,  from  eternity,  arranged  the  plan,  by  which  Adam, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  67 

under  the  most  favourable  circumstances,  should  rep- 
resent his  race,  he  devised  also  the  plan  by  which 
the  "  Lord  from  heaven"  should  take  the  place  of  fall- 
en humanity,  and  represent  it  before  eternal  justice. 
"Wherefore  as  by  one  man  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin,  death  passed  upon  all  men,  for 
that  all  have  sinned.  Therefore,  as  by  the  offence  of 
one,  judgment  came  upon  all  men  to  condemnation  : 
even  so  by  the  righteousness  of  one  the  free  gift  came 
upon  all  men  unto  justification  of  life.  For  as  by  one 
man's  disobedience  many  were  made  sinners,  so  by  the 
obedience  of  one  shall  many  be  made  righteous." 

The  question  then  to  be  determined  is,  not  what 
w^ould  have  become  of  infants,  had  they  been  left  to 
meet  all  the  consequences  of  their  natural  condition ; — 
not  whether,  being  equally  guilty  and  depraved  and  help- 
less, with  full  grown  sinners,  they  were  not  equally  de- 
serving of  eternal  separation  from  God  ;  nor  whether  such 
an  infliction  of  the  sentence  pronounced  on  all,  would 
have  been  righteous ;  but  it  is  whether  now,  under  an- 
other constitution,  even  that  of  a  mediator,  the  second 
Adam,  who  has  entered  into  the  guilty  position  and  sus- 
tained the  curse  resting  on  the  first,  and  upon  all  his  pos- 
terity ;  whether  now,  since  redemption  from  that  pri- 
mal curse,  and  cleansing  from  that  original  depravity, 
and  entire  deliverance  from  that  native  unworthiness, 
have  been  procured  through  the  Almighty  Saviour  ; 
children  are  or  are  not,  interested  in  these  blessings, 
and  partakers  of  them  ? 

Now,  just  so  far  as  scripture  is  ^rVe??*^  upon  this  pointy 
may  we  feel  assured  that  it  is  so  from  the  fact,  that 
infants,  dying  such,  come  not  under  its  proclamation  of 
DUTY,  and  therefore  are  not  referred  to  in  its  overtures 
of  mercy,  which  are  to  be  received  or  rejected,  by  vol- 
untary agents  to  whom  alone  they  are  addressed.     We 


68'  SOLACE    FOR    BI^REAVED    PARENTS. 

may  be  perfectly  satisfied,  since  God  has  exercised  in- 
finite mercy  in  providing  salvation  from  the  guilt  and 
misery  of  the  fall ;  and  since  He  has  been  pleased  to 
remove  one  half  of  the  entire  human  race  at  a  time 
when  they  could  not  possibly  enjoy  through  their  per- 
sonal agency,  any  benefit  from  such  merciful  provision  ; 
that  having  all  died  in  Adam,  they  shall  all,  in  Christ, 
he  made  ahve  ;  and  having  by  one  man's  disobedience 
been  all  constituted  sinners,  they  shall  through  one 
man's  obedience  be  all  made  righteous.  And  when  in 
connexion  with  this  we  state,  what  is  universally  ad- 
mitted, that  so  far  as  scripture  does  cast  its  light  upon 
the  subject,  it  is  the  light  of  encouragement  and  hope, 
this  conclusion  amounts,  we  think,  to  a  moral  certainty. 
For,  on  what  other  principle  can  we  have  any  conceiv- 
able explanation  of  that  dispensation  of  Providence,  by 
which  one  entire  half  of  all  earth's  inhabitants  are  swepr 
from  this  state  of  condemnation  and  of  hope,  before  they 
can  open  their  mind  to  the  comprehension  either  of 
their  fall  in  Adam,  or  their  recovery  in  Christ  ?  Were 
they  not  at  once  removed,  before  they  become  person- 
ally guilty,  that  they  might  certainly  enjoy  the  bless- 
ings of  salvation — w  ould  not  God  have  permitted  all 
to  reach  a  period  of  maturity,  and  thus,  in  their  own 
person,  receive  or  reject  his  mercy,  and  be  pronounced 
worthy  or  unworthy  of  an  inheritance  among  the  saints 
in  hght  ? 

And  what  does  scripture  intimate  on  this  subject? 
We  have  said  that  infents,  like  full  grown  men,  are  mor- 
tal, and  that  death  comes  upon  them,  inasmuch  as  they 
have  sinned  in  Adam.  Now,  the  Bible  declares, 
that  they  shall  be  partakers  of  that  resurrection  which 
is  the  fruit  of  Christ's  death,  and  through  which  death 
itself  shall  be  abolished,  and  the  grave  despoiled  of  its 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       69 

victims.*  We  have  said  that  infants  stand  equally  re- 
lated to  Adam  and  his  consequent  fall,  guilt,  and  ruin, 
with  those  who  are  adult.  But  in  the  gospel  we  are 
taught,  that  great  as  was  that  fall,  greater  is  this  re- 
demption ;  that  extensive  as  were  the  ravages  of  the 
one,  much  more  multiplied  are  the  blessings  of  the 
other  ;  and  that  great  reason  as  we  have  to  mourn  over 
the  one,  infintely  greater  may  all  have,  to  rejoice  in  the 
other.  For  as  in  Adam  all  died,  so  in  Christ  might  all 
have  been  niade  ahve.  "  Not  as  the  offence,  so  also 
is  the  free  gift,  for  the  judgment  was  by  one  (offence) 
to  condemnation,  but  the  free  gift  is  of  many  offences 
nnto  justification."  This  free  gift  is  offered  for  the  re- 
ception, and  is,  in  its  own  nature  and  sufficiency,  ade- 
quate to  the  justification,  of  all  men.  And  since,  it  is 
by  their  unbelief  and  rejection  of  this  gift,  that  the 
wrath  of  God  will  come,  unimpeded,  upon  guilty  and 
ungrateful  men,  infants  being  incapable  of  rejecting  it, 
are  not,  we  may  hope,  '•  condemned  with  the  world." 

"  Christ  took  upon  liim  our  nature,  to  sanctify  and 
to  save  it,  and  passed  through  the  several  periods  of  it, 
even  unto  deatli,  which  is  the  symbol  and  effect  of  old 
age  ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  certain  he  did  sanctify  all  tlie 
periods  of  it :  and  why  should  he  be  an  infant,  but  that 
infants  should  receive  the  crown  of  their  age,  the  purifica- 
tion of  their  stained  nature,  the  sanctification  of  their 
person,  and  the  saving  of  their  souls,  by  their  Infant 
Lord  and  Eider  Brother  ?"' 

If  the  heathen,  who  are  '•  without  tbe  knowledge  of 
the  law,  shall  be  judged  without  the  law,"  or  on  prin- 
ciples different  from  those  appUed  to  such  as  "  enjoy  the 
law ;"  surely  infants,  who  die  previous  to  their  possible 


*  On  this*part  of  the  subject,  see  Russell's  Essay  on  Infant  Salva- 
tion, chapter  3. 


70  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

knowledge  of  the  gospel,  shall  not  have  its  application  to 
them  measured  by  the  rules  of  personal  accountability  ? 
Having  never  "  sinned  after  the  similitude  of  Adam's 
transgression,"  they  will  not  be  saved  after  the  si- 
militude of  those  of  Adam's  full  grown  posterity,  who 
have  thus  sinned.  All  objections  to  this  conclusion 
arising  from  the  incapacity  of  infants  for  salvation,  are 
entirely  presumptuous,  since  Christ  has  assured  us  that 
"  of  such,"  even  infants  in  the  arms,  "  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  Now,  as  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons, 
and  as  all  children  are  his  moral  offspring,  and  all  are 
equally  guilty  :  and  equally  incapable,  by  any  possibil- 
ity, of  seeking  deliverance  from  sin  ;  we  must  conclude 
that  all  children,  dying  in  infancy,  are  saved  with  an 
everlasting  salvation  through  the  abounding  grace  of 
Christ  Jesus,  our  Lord. 

"It appears,"  says  Dr.  Russell,  '•  that  the  original  con- 
stitution and  that  w^hich  is  now  established  through 
Christ,  are  thus  far  co-extensive,  that  the  direct  penal 
effects  of  the  sin  of  Adam,  separately  considered,  are 
so  far  removed,  that  none  shall  be  finally  condemned, 
merely  for  his  one  offence,  or  loithoiit  having  person- 
ally transgressed,  and  thereby,  actually  concurred  in 
that  sin,  by  their  approval  and  imitation  of  it.  This  is 
confirmed  by  the  consideration  that,  when  speaking  of 
the  condemnation  even  of  such  as  are  '-without  law," 
the  apostle  limits  this  doom  to  such  as  actually  have 
sinned.  He  refers  to  such  as  have  sinned  against 
light,  sufficient  to  render  them  "  without  excuse  ;"  and 
who,  of  course,  are  actual  transgressors.  Rom.  i.  19 — 
32 ;  and  ii.  12.  This  declaration,  respecting  the 
ground  of  the  condemnation,  of  such  as  were  without 
law,  ought  to  be  considered  in  connexion  with  the  rea- 
soning in  chap,  v.,  which  must  be  consistent  ^vith  it  in 
all  its  parts.     And  as  the  ground  of  condemnation  now 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       71 

in  question,  cannot  apply  to  infants,  the  reasoning  re- 
specting it,  so  far  from  militating*  against  the  salvation 
of  such,  serves  to  establish  it,  because  it  supposes  the 
abuse  of  at  least  a  measure  of  light,  and  the  imitation 
of  the  sin  of  Adam  by  actual  transgression.  If  such, 
as  is  evident,  be  the  declared  ground  of  the  condemna- 
tion of  adults,  and  if  not  a  woid  is  said  of  any  ground 
on  which  children  dying  in  infancy  shall  be  finally 
condemned,  does  it  not  follow,  that  all  of  them  are 
saved?  Tliis  conclusion  is  completely  confirmed  by  its 
full  accordance  with  the  principle,  that,  as  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body  is  the  result  of  the  advent  and  admin- 
istration of  Christ,  it  is  of  course  connected,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  the  case  of  deceased  infants,  with  deliverance 
from  the  whole  result  of  the  original  curse. 

"  It  is  obviously  taught  by  the  apostle,  that  the  glory 
of  the  work  of  Christ  is  more  illustriously  displayed  in 
overcoming  the  accumulated  effects  of  tlie  many  per- 
sonal offences  of  actual  transgressors,  than  in  simply 
overcoming  those  of  the  single  offence  of  Adam,  and 
this  accounts  for  his  passing  from  the  latter  display  of 
glory  to  the  former.  He  takes  for  granted,  the  redemp- 
tion of  those  who  had  "  not  sinned  after  the  simihtude 
of  Adam's  transgression,"  when  reasoning  on  the  tran- 
scendent grandeur  of  the  plan  of  mercy,  as  embracing 
the  remission  of  "  the  many  offences"  of  actual  trans- 
gressors. On  the  full  glory  of  the  plan,  as  thus  most 
impressively  exhibited,  he  delighted  to  dwell,  and  what 
he  says  of  the  circumstances  of  infants,  is  introduced 
chiefly  for  the  sake  of  illustrating  this  higher  manifes- 
tation of  '•  the  exceeding  riches"  of  divine  grace.  In 
arguing  for  the  greater,  he  takes  for  granted,  the  less. 
He  cannot  but  be  considered  as  teaching  us,  that  the 
scheme  of  redemption  shields  from  the  penal  conse- 
quences of  Adam^s   sin,  separately  viewed,  or  where 


72  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

they  are  not  connected  with  actual  sin  and  final  impen- 
itence, seeing  he  maintains  that  its  object  extends,  not 
to  this  only,  bat  much  farther. 

"  When  he  reasons,  that  if  the  forfeiture  was  incurred 
by  one  offence,  we  have  much  more  reason  to  expect 
that  the  blessings  of  redemption  will  be  communicated 
on  the  principle  of  representation,  or  through  the  work 
of  Christ  as  a  public  head,  and  tlrat  those  blessings  shall 
far  exceed  the  damage  sustained  by  the  fall  of  the  first 
Adam,  his  reasoning  proceeds  on  the  principle  that  God 
delighteth  in  mercy,  and  is  slow  to  anger,  and  reluctant 
to  execute  judgment.  It  also  supposes  that  justice,  in 
the  infliction  of  punishment,  is  limited  to  desert,  while 
grace,  when  not  obstructed  in  its  exercise  by  the  claims 
of  offended  riglileousness,  can  be  imparted  in  the  most 
unlimited  abundance,  according  to  the  good  pleasure  of 
the  divine  will.  It  seenis,  then,  necessarily  to  follow, 
that,  under  tlie  present  dispensation,  no  exclusion  oc- 
curs, wliere  noticing  additional  to  the  sin  of  Adam  has 
taken  place,  since  all  obstructions  in  the  way  of  the 
honourable  exeicise  of  mercy,  and  grace,  have  been 
completely  removed,  l)y  the  infinitely  precious  sacrifice 
cS  Christ.  This  conclusion  is  but  the  natural  result  of 
ilie  foregoing  premises,  and  it,  of  course,  involves  the 
;?alvation  of  all  who  have  not  been  guilty  of  actual 
transgression. 

"It  may  here  be  farther  remarked,  that  the  concern 
of  infants,  in  the  sin  of  Adam,  is  of  a  relative  nature, 
and,  therefore,  cannot  be  divided  among  them,  so  as 
that  one  may  have  this  share  of  it,  and  another  that ; 
as  in  the  case,  when  a  number  have  shared  in  the 
doing  of  a  thing  for  the  whole  of  relative  blame  must 
attach  to  every  individual  of  the  parties  concerned  in 
It.  Now  it  will  be  granted,  that  the  guilt  of  this  sin 
was  expiated  by  Christ :  for,  otherwise,  Adam  could 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  73 

never  have  been  saved,  and  not  a  single  infant  could 
have  been  delivered  from  its  effects  on  his  posterity  ; 
BO  that,  according  to  this  principle,  the  universal  per- 
dition of  infants  must  be  maintained  ;  a  thing  which, 
none  will  admit  as  possible." 

It  is  true,  infants  are  by  nature  as  depraved  as  those 
of  riper  years,  though  not  as  actually  guilty ;  but  it  is 
also  true,  that  the  spirit  of  God  can  as  easily  and  as 
effectually  wash  and  sanctify  and  justify  them ;  and 
since  He  does  assuredly  prepare  many  infants  for  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven,  He  can  as  easily  prepare  all. 

"  Respecting  the  time  when  God  may  be  pleased  to 
change  their  hearts  by  his  Spirit,"  says  Dr.  Russell, 
"  whether  before  or  at  the  time  of  their  dissolution,  it 
does  not  seem  to  be  of  great  importance  to  inquire. 
He  who  imparted  his  moral  likeness  to  Adam,  immedi- 
ately at  his  creation,  and  gave  his  Holy  Spirit  to  John, 
while  in  his  mother's  womb,  ought  not  to  be  limited. 
If  the  first  Adam  had  continued  obedient,  would  not  his 
children  have  been  born  in  a  state  of  holiness,  or  with 
a  principle  predisposing  to  holy  exercises,  as  soon  as  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  were  so  developed  as  to  fit  for 
moral  agency  ?  And  if  so,  why  may  not  the  Spirit  of 
God  so  influence  the  heart  of  a  child,  as  to  produce  a 
similar  predisposition  there  ?  If,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
germ  of  sin  be  in  infants  from  the  beginning,  though 
not  developed  in  actual  transgressions,  why  may  not 
the  germ  of  holiness  be  implanted  by  the  Divine  Spirit 
on  earth,  though  its  developments  in  the  case  of  infants 
can  be  witnessed  only  in  heaven  ?  The  most  eminent 
of  our  older  evangelical  writers  distinguish  between 
the  principle  and  the  exercise  of  grace,  and  maintain 
that  the  former  may  exist  in  children  while  as  yet 
incapable  of  the  latter.*    We  cannot  say  what  may  be 

*  Owen  on  the  Spirit,  vol.  ii.  253,  413. 
7 


74  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

the  Tnode  of  the  Divine  operations,  in  regard  to  such, 
and  no  practical  benefit  could  we  derive  from  the 
knowledge  of  it.  The  Almighty  can  doubtless  instan- 
taneously raise  from  infantile  weakness  and  ignorance, 
to  the  perfection  of  heavenly  light  and  holy  purity. 
This  will  afford  a  display  of  the  Divine  power,  which 
will  be  deeply  impressive.  Christians  who  have  long 
known  the  truth  upon  earth,  though  through  a  glass 
darkly,  understand  something  of  the  celestial  glory, 
before  they  enter  on  it,  but  what  must  be  the  feelings 
of  infants,  on  being  suddenly  translated  to  the  full 
radiance  of  the  heavenly  inheritance,  and  what  the 
feelings  of  others  on  witnessing  this  striking  display  of 
Almighty  power  ? 

"  What  prevents  the  full  renovation  of  Christians  on 
earth,  but  the  weakness  and  unsettledness  of  their  faitli, 
in  the  gospel,  and  will  not  the  full  blaze  of  its  lustre  at 
once  assimilate  the  whole  soul  to  itself?  '  The  germ 
of  life  and  of  glory,'  which  was  here  implanted  in  the 
infant  mind,  will  burst  forth  instantaneously  into  a 
full  and  vigorous  life,  and  the  heart  will  be  impressed 
with  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  character  of  God, 
and  capacitated  for  the  services  and  the  bliss  of  the  ce- 
lestial sanctuary. 

"  And  when  we  remember,  how  God  taught  the 
children  of  Jerusalem,  to  offer  up  their  artless  hosannas 
in  the  temple,  how  their  praises  were  accepted  of  the 
Saviour,  and  how  they  seem  to  have  relieved  and 
gladdened  the  mind  of  the  Man  of  sorrows,  as  he 
thought  of  the  obstinate  unbelief,  and  impending  fate 
of  that  city  over  which  he  mournfully  wept,  we  cannot 
but  recommend  them  to  God,  in  the  confidence  that 
his  power  and  his  goodness  are  always  the  same. 
Knowing,  9.s  we  do,  that  our  Lord  was  much  attJiched 
to  children  when  he  was  on  earth,  and  seeing  such  im- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  76 

mense  numbers  of  tliem  cut  off  by  death ;  are  not  we 
warranted  to  say  that  he  is  now  by  his  providence, 
repeating  from  heaven  what  he  said  when  in  our 
world,  '  Suffer  httle  children  to  come  unto  me,  for  of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  God.' " 

It  is  also  true  that  infants  are  as  helplessly  impotent 
to  good  as  are  adults ;  but  they  are  not  more  so,  and 
spiritual  good  cometh  not  by  human  might,  nor  human 
power,  but  by  the  spirit  of  God.  True,  they  are  equally, 
with  grown  persons,  ignorant  of  God  and  holiness  ;  but 
they  are  also  as  susceptible  of  heavenly  guidance :  and 
after  all,  the  difference  between  the  most  perfect,  and 
the  lowest,  attainments  in  human  knowledge,  and 
those  which  are  acquired  in  heaven,  is  insignificantly 
omali.  It  is  true,  also,  that  infants  are  as  capable  of 
progressive  improvement,  and  as  susceptible  of  happi- 
ness, as  those  of  the  most  giant  powers ;  and  a  brief 
schooling  under  the  teachings  of  the  upper  sanctuary, 
will,  therefore,  put  them  far  in  advance  of  the  most 
exalted  earthly  genius. 

When,  in  addition  to  what  has  been  now  advanced, 
we  remember  the  peculiar  interest  Vv^hich  God  has  ever 
manifested  in  infants ; — when  Ave  remember  how  he 
has  distinctly  called  them  his  "  innocents,"  his  ''  poor 
innocents,"  and  has  thus,  it  would  appear,  declared  that, 
under  his  present  dispensation,  they  are  held  no  longer, 
as  such,  (that  is,  when  their  period  of  probation  closes 
in  infancy,)  accountable  for  their  guilt  in  Adam ; — ■ 
when  we  remember,  in  the  manifestation  which  God 
made  of  himself  in  the  liesh,  how  marvellously  he  was 
drawn  out  in  his  affectionate  regard  to  infants,  and 
how  emphatically  he  declared  them  to  'be  a  great 
component  part  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;* — when 

*  "  The  expression,  '  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  God,'  means,  then, 
that  '  of  such  it  is  in  a  great  measure  made  up,'  because  they  will  form 


76       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

we  remember,  that  it  is  out  of  their  mouths,  God  is  to 
perfect  his  praise ;  that  their  hosannas  will  be  sweetest 
in  the  loud  song  of  heavenly  praise ;  and  their  angels 
be  nearest  to  the  bright  vision  of  the  face  of  unveiled 
Deity  ; — and  when,  in  the  actual  demonstration  of  the 
purposes  of  God,  we  find  him  carrying  home  to  his  bo- 
som, while  in  this  state  of  happy  innocency,  one  half 
of  his  human  family  ; — are  we  not,  beyond  all  contro- 
versy, assured  that  the  infant  dead  are  ransomed  from 
all  the  pains  and  perils  of  this  mortal  strife,  that  they 
may  be  at  once  admitted  to  that  kingdom  "  prepared" 
for  them,  and  for  all  the  elect  family  of  heaven,  "  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world." 

•  Calm  on  the  bosom  of  thy  God, 
Young  spirits  !  rest  thee  now  ! 
Even  while  with  us  thy  footsteps  trod, 
His  seal  was  on  thy  brow. 

I  have  thus  very  briefly  adverted  to  the  numerous 
grounds  upon  which  a  belief  in  the  salvation  of  infants 
]nay  be  founded.     A  full  discussion  of  them,  with  an 

a  very  great  proportion  of  the  redeemed  family  of  Heaven.  The  Sa- 
viour appears  to  have  had  tlie  universal  salvation  of  all  of  them  who 
die  in  infancy  in  his  view.  His  reasoning  is  not,  '  of  persons  resem- 
bling such  in  temper  and  disposition  is  the  kingdom  made  up,  for  this,  as 
has  already  been  hinted,  would  not  warrant  the  conclusion  drawn, 
namely,  that  children  ought  not  to  be  hindered  from  being  brought  to 
Him,  in  order  to  be  blessed,  for  on  the  same  principle  he  might  have 
said,  '  Suffer  doves  and  lambs  to  be  brought  unto  me  to  be  blessed,  for 
of  persons  resembling  such  is  the  kingdom  of  God  made  up.'  Now, 
this  would  prove  too  much ;  consequently  it  proves  nothing.  His  words, 
then,  must  respect  children  literally  ;  and  his  blessing  such  ensures  their 
f^alvation.  It  is  to  no  purpose  to  deny  this  conclusion  by  saying,  that 
though  our  Lord  wept  over  Jerusalem,  yet,  Jerusalem  fell,  for  there  is  a 
wide  and  an  essential  difference  between  a  lamentation  over  the  obsti- 
nacy of  active  rebels,  and  a  benediction  poured  upon  infants,  between  a 
warning  of  impending  danger,  and  an  assurance,  that  *  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven.'  Nor  can  the  words  be  construed  to  respect  only 
the  particular  children  then  brought  to  Him,  or  any  particular  class  of 
children  exclusively,  for  the  expression,  '  of  such,'  is  comprehensive  of 
all  who  never  get  beyond  the  condition  of  infancy." — Dr.  Russell. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  77 

answer  to  all  difficulties  involved  in  the  subject,  has 
been  given  by  Dr.  Russell,  and  the  following  abridg- 
ment of  his  views,  by  Dr.  Gumming,  of  the  Scotch 
Church,  London,  though  it  may  in  part  cover  the 
ground  we  have  surveyed,  may  be  useful  and  interest- 
ing.* 

"  It  will  be  admitted  by  all  that  the  bodies  of  infants 
will  be  raised  at  the  resurrection  morn.    The  language 
of  Scripture  is  exphcit— '  I  saw  the  dead,  small  and 
great,'  (that   is,   infants   and   adults)    '  stand    before 
God ;'  '  and  the  sea  gave  up  the  dead  which  were  in  it, 
and  death  and  hell  delivered  up  the  dead  which  were  in 
them  ;'  and  '  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  the 
voice  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  shall  come  forth.'     We 
must  include  in  this  mighty  assemblage  numbers  of 
infants  as  well  as  adults.     To  this  the  apostle  seems  to 
allude,  w^hen  he  says,  every  one  shall  be  raised  '  in  his 
own  order.'      The  literal  translation   is,   '  in   his  own 
class ;'  infants  in  their  class,  adults  in  their  class,  males 
in  their  class,  females  in  their  class—'  every  one  in  his 
own  order.'     Now,  if  the  bodies  of  infants  are  to  be 
raised,  we  may  fairly  inquire,  what  can  be  the  purpose 
of  thus  raising  their  sleeping  dust  from  its  resting- 
places,  and  reuniting  each  infant  soul  to  its  body  ?     It 
cannot  be  to  be  judged  ;  for  the  judgment  proceeds  ac- 
cording to  works  done  in  the  body,  and  infants  have 
done  no  works.      In    every  record  of   the  judgment 
morn,  the  statement  is,  that  it  proceeds,  not  according 
to  the  merit  of  works,  (far  from  that,)  but  according  to 
works  as  the  manifestation  of  a  principle  of  grace  with- 
in.    Infa'nts,  having  had  neither  the  opportunity  nor 
the  physical  power  of  manifesting  character  by  con- 
duct, cannot  be  raised  to  be  judged,  as  they  are  not  just 

*  From  a  Discourse  on  Infant  Salvation.     Lond. 

7* 


78  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

subjects  of  the  judgment  ordeal.  In  the  next  place, 
infants  cannot  be  raised  to  be  condemned  to  everlasting 
punishment.  Why  ?  Because  this  is  not  a  part  of 
the  original  curse  that  was  pronounced  upon  Adam. 
The  curse  pronounced  upon  Adam  was,  'Thou  shalt 
surely  die :'  that  is,  the  soul  shall  die,  and  the  body 
shall  die  ;  and  when  the  one  is  severed  from  the  other, 
the  penalty  is  exhausted.  The  punishment  apportion- 
ed to  them  that  have  either  rejected  the  overtures  of 
.he  glorious  gospel,  or  stained  their  souls  with  sin  and 
their  hands  with  wickedness,  can  never  be  due  to  in- 
fants. They  can  be  the  subjects  of  the  primitive  curse 
only.  But  to  raise  their  bodies  again,  and  to  reunite 
them  to  their  souls  in  order  to  suffer,  would  be  unjust, 
because  it  would  be  apportioning  greater  punishment 
than  the  original  sentence  contained.  It  would  be  the 
infliction  of  a  doom  severer  than  God  pronounced  in 
Paradise.  God's  truth  never  errs,  in  excess  or  short- 
coming. Therefore,  when  infants  are  raised  from  the 
dead,  they  are  raised  not  to  he  judged^  for  there  are 
no  works,  according  to  which  they  can  be  judged  ; 
they  are  raised  not  to  suffer^  because  this  would  be  un- 
ust,  and  exceeding  the  original  sentence.  What  must, 
then,  be  the  end  ?  They  are  raised  in  order  to  be  ad- 
mitted into  glory ;  that,  reclothed  with  more  glorious 
apparel  than  Adam  lost,  they  may  take  their  place  in 
the  midst  of  those,  who  have  '  washed  their  robes  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.' 

"  But  this  presumption  amounts  almost  to  certainty, 
if  we  bear  in  mind,  that  if  infants'  bodies  are  raised 
from  the  dead,  then  is  there  in  this  fact  the  actual  re- 
moval of  half  the  primeval  curse  ;  for  its  penalty  was 
the  death  of  soul  and  body,  both.  Now  if  we  find  it 
to  be  the  fact  that  the  body  is  raised,  which  is  the  re- 
moval of  half  the  curse,  may  we  not,  in  full  harmony 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  79 

with  the  presumptions  of  reason,  and  above  all  in  full 
coincidence  with  the  merciful  genius  of  the  gospel,  in- 
fer that  the  other  half  of  the  curse  is  remitted  also — 
that  the  soul  and  body  shall  be  reunited,  both  togeth- 
er to  inherit  everlasting  happiness  ? 

"  We  are  also  to  connect  with  this  fact  the  truth, 
that  this  resurrection  of  tlieir  bodies  is  tiie  fruit  of  the 
atonement  and  resurrection  of  Christ — because  if 
Christ  haxi  not  died  and  risen  again,  there  had  been  no 
resuneclion  ;  the  very  resurrection  of  the  body  is  the 
result  of  the  atonement  of  Christ,  and  in  that  sense  it 
extends  to  every  man.  Now  if  infants'  bodies  are 
raised  from  the  dead,  and  this  only  through  Christ's  res- 
urrection, and  as  the  result  of  His  perfect  atonement, 
and  if  thus  half  the  curse  is  remitted  by  the  efficacy 
of  the  Saviour's  blood,  and  by  the  virtues  of  His  resur- 
rection from  the  dead,  may  we  not  infer  that  the  other 
half  will  be  remitted  also,  and  that  soul  and  body  will 
live  and  rejoice  together  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord 
for  ever  ? 

"  With  respect  to  those  who  are  born  amid  the  means 
of  grace  and  opportunities  of  mercy,  there  is  one  only 
cause  given  in  the  gospel  for  their  condemnation,  viz., 
their  wilful  rejection  of  the  gospel.  '  This  is  the  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  are 
evil'  '  He  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life, 
but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him.'  And  again, 
'  Ye  will  not  come  to  me  that  ye  may  have  hfe.'  If, 
then,  this  be  the  great  condemning  sin,  which  consigns 
sinners  to  misery,  it  is  clear  that  infants  never  commit- 
ted that  sin,  because  physically  and  morally  incapable 
of  it ;  and  therefore  infants,  having  not  committed  the 
only  condemning  sin,  cannot  and  will  not  be  ranked 
amid  the  condemned  hereafter. 


80  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

i3f  "Nor  will  it  alter  the  conclusion  if  it  be  alleged  that 
infants  will  be  tried  by  the  standard  according  to  which 
the  destinies  of  the  heathen,  who  never  heard  the  gos- 
pel, will  be  decided.  The  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
says,  '  When  the  Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law,  do 
by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the  law,  these, 
having  not  the  law,  are  a  law  unto  themselves, 
their  thoughts  the  meanwhile  accusing  or  else  ex- 
cusing one  another.'  We  have  only  to  weigh  the 
import  of  this  phraseology  to  see  its  total  inapplicabil- 
ity to  infants.  They  can  be  accused  neither  of  re- 
jecting the  gospel  nor  of  violating  the  law.  If  grace 
cannot  save  them,  which  is  not  the  case,  we  may  be 
sure  that  works  cannot  condemn  them.  Moral  inabili- 
ty is  sin.  Physical  inability  is  misfortune.  Let  it  not 
be  supposed  that  I  deny  the  doctrine  of  original  sin. 
This  would  be  to  deny  fact  and  dispute  scripture. 
But  this  I  am  fully  persuaded  of — that  none  will 
be  condemned  for  its  taint  only — Satan's  purposes  of 
ruin  and  of  wreck  shall  not  be  fulfilled.  Nay,  every 
picture  we  have  of  the  place  of  misery  implies,  I  think, 
that  infants  are  incapable  of  being  lost.  This  is  a 
strong  assertion,  but  it  is  a  perfectly  correct  one.  What 
is  the  scripture  picture  of  hell  ?  It  is  men  who  have 
'  sown  to  the  flesh,'  '  reaping  corruption  ;'  it  is  men 
who  have  sown  iniquity,  reaping  punishment.  It  is 
'  the  worm  that  never  dieth'^ — an  accusing  conscience, 
the  fell  agony  of  ceaseless  remorse — the  remembrance 
of  rejected  grace — of  abused  mercies — of  rebellion 
against  God,  and  of  wrestling  against  conscience. 
These  constitute  ^  the  worm  that  dieth  not ;'  these 
make  up  and  feed  the  flame  of  that  '  fire  that  is  not 
quenched.'  But  an  infant  is  totally  incapable  of  those 
poignant  suflferings — those  stings  and  agonies  of  re- 
morse, because  an  infant  never  committed  a  single  trans- 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       81 

gression.  And  therefore,  as  these  feelings  of  remorse 
are  the  main  elements  of  hell,  and  as  infants  are  by 
their  very  natme  destitute  of  hell's  chief  element,  they 
are  incapable  of  suffering  hell's  dread  punishment,  as 
far,  at  least,  as  the  nature  of  that  punishment  can  be 
ascertained  from  the  pages  of  the  inspired  volume. 

"  It  may  be  objected  here,  that  throughout  the  scrip- 
tures, salvation  is  invariably  tied  to  faith.  Unquestion- 
ably it  is  so  ;  but  it  is  of  necessity  with  reference  to 
them  only  who  are  capable  of  exercising  faith.  To  re- 
quire faith  in  infants,  is  to  require  a  physical  impossibil- 
ity, and  if  faith,  the  instrument  of  salvation,  is  the  free 
gift  of  God  in  the  case  of  every  adult,  we  may  fairly  pre- 
sume that  in  the  case  of  infants,  where  there  is  no  ability 
to  appreciate  its  nature  or  its  object,  God  will  bestow 
the  end  without  it,  and  implant  the  principle  of  a  living 
and  everlasting  faith.  He  can  work  with,  or  without,  or 
against  means,  when  his  own  high  purposes  demand  it. 
"  It  would  appear  that  one  leading  object  contemplated 
by  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  destruc- 
tion and  depression  of  Satan,  and  that,  too,  by  a  de- 
monstration that  not  one  particle  of  his  malignant  poHcy 
and  prospects  has  been,  or  Avill  be  secured. 

"  Now  it  does  seem,  if  infants  are  not  universally  sa- 
ved, that  Satan  hath  got  nearly  as  much  as  he  hoped  to 
achieve  of  triumph  over  God.  It  is  evident  that  Satan's 
pohcy,  when  he  seduced  Adam  and  Eve,  was  meant, 
either,  on  the  one  hand,  to  force  God  to  destroy  this 
world,  in  which  His  smiles  gave  beauty  to  every  blos- 
som, and  His  breath  gave  fragrance  to  every  flower,  and 
all  of  which  He  himself  had  pronounced  to  be  'very 
good,'  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  lead  God  to  pronounce 
one  universal  and  indiscriminate  amnesty  upon  every 
creature  that  had  transgressed, — thereby  unhinging 
His  moral  government,  conniving  at  crime,  and  com- 


82       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

promising  the  claims  of  holiness  and  truth.  His  policy 
was,  to  drive  God  either  to  destroy  this  beautiful  world 
and  its  rational  offspring,  as  baulked  and  disappointed, 
or,  when  the  creature  sinned,  to  pardon  the  creature  at 
once,  and  thus  dissolve  the  fixed  and  unchangeable 
connexion  between  sin  and  suffering,  between  iniquity 
and  death.  These  were  the  two  extremes,  either  of 
which  Satan  made  sure  of  achieving ;  but  the  atone- 
ment is  the  unexpected  solution  of  the  difficulty, — the 
great  cause  of  the  lesson  being  inscribed  in  heaven,  and 
legible  on  earth  at  the  moment  that  the  chiefest  of  sin- 
ners are  saved — '  The  wages  of  sin  is  death,  but  the  gift 
of  God  is  eternal  life.'  But  if  infants  are  lost,  they  are 
lost  because  of  their  connection  with  the  first  Adam, 
and  therefore  in  that  respect  Satan  has  triumphed; 
nay,  if  this  be  true,  half  the  human  race  by  Satan's 
policy,  and  without  their  personal  guilt,  are  lost. 

"  Infants,  however,  are  not  lost.  We  know  that 
none  shall  perish,  but  those  that  reject  the  cure ;  none 
shall  inherit  the  serpent's  curse,  except  those  that  im- 
bibe the  serpent's  spirit.  And  on  the  other  hand,  those 
who  are  saved,  it  is  declared  expressl}^  in  scripture,  are 
saved  only  through  the  mediation  of  Jesus,  by  reason 
of  the  transcendant  goodness,  that  gave  Christ  to  die 
for  the  sins  of  mankind,  and  therefore  by  a  way  of 
salvation,  Avhicii  does  not  tarnish  the  glory  of  God. 
Neither  shall  man  be  lost,  nor  the  world  destroyed,  nor 
God  dishonoured  by  the  pohcy  of  Satan.  The  reverse 
shall  be  the  triumphant  issue.  We  justly  infer,  that 
the  sum  total  of  tliis  dispensation  will  be,  that  not  one 
soul  shall  be  lost  because  of  Satan's  success  in  Paradise, 
but  that  on  the  contrary,  his  apparent  triumph  shall 
be  overruled  by  Infinite  Wisdom  to  be  the  means  of 
bringing  many  sons  to  a  greater  happiness,  and  of  giv- 
ing greater  glory  to  God.     They  that  perish,  perish  by 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       83 

their  rejection  of  life,  not  by  their  inheritance  of 
Adam's  sin.  Not  Satan's  success,  but  their  own  suici- 
dal resistance  of  truth  necessitates  their  doom,  Satan's 
kingdom  is  destro3^ed  and  Satan's  expectations  crushed 
by  the  nature  of  the  gospel ;  and  it  thereby  comes  to 
pass,  that,  if  infants  be  universally  saved  through 
grace,  there  will  be  left  to  Satan  not  one  single  frag- 
ment or  wreck,  which  he  can  quote  as  a  proof  of  the 
success  of  his  stratagems,  and  a  fruit  of  his  wickedness 
ill  the  garden  of  Eden, 

"  Thus  his  head  will  be  crushed — thus  the  very  vic- 
tims he  hoped  to  retain  as  symbols  of  his  might  are 
snatched  from  his  fangs,  and  enrolled  in  the  Lamb's 
book  of  life  as  heirs  of  happiness  :  and  those  who  sink 
into  the  abyss  in  which  -  hfe  dies,  and  death  hves,' 
will  be  there,  not  murdered  by  Satan,  but  suicides — 
not  proofs  of  the  power  of  his  will,  but  the  exponents 
of  the  infatuation  of  their  own  hearts, 

"  In  the  eighth  Psalm  we  have  an  express  scriptural 
proof  of  the  salvation  of  infants,  and  an  unequivocal 
intimation  that  amid  the  multitudes  that  grace  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  Son  of  God,  infants  will  not  be  wanting 
— •  O  Lord  our  Lord,  how  excellent  is  Thy  name  in 
ail  the  earth  !  who  hast  set  Thy  glory  above  tiie  heav- 
ens. Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  hast 
Thou  ordained  strength,  because  of  Thine  enemies, 
that  Thou  mightest  still  the  enemy  and  the  avenger.' 
Now  the  apostle  Paul,  in  reasoning  upon  this  very 
Psalm  in  his  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  quotes  it  as  de- 
scriptive of  Cin-ist  in  the  days  of  His  final  triumph.  It 
is  in  the  second  chapter.  '  But  one  in  a  certain  place 
testified,  saying,  What  is  man,  that  Thou  art  mindful 
of  him  ?  or  the  son  of  man,  that  Thou  visitest  him  ? 
Thou  madest  him  a  little  lower  than  the  angels ;  Thou 
crownedst  him  Vvith  glory  and  honour,  and  didst  set 


84       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

him  over  the  works  of  Thy  h'ands  }  Thou  hast  put  all 
things  in  subjection  under  his  feet.  For  in  that  He 
put  all  in  subjection  under  him^  He  left  nothing  that 
is  not  put  under  him.  But  now  we  see  not  yet  all 
things  put  under  him.  But  we  see  Jesus,  who  was 
made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels  for  the  suffering  of 
deathj.  crowned  with  glory  and  ho«K)ur ;  that  he  by  the 
grace  of  God  should  taste  death  for  every  man.' — The 
sacred  penman  states  that  the  Psalm  refers  to  that 
period  when  Christ  shall  reign  from  sea  to  sea — all  re- 
bellious elements  being  laid  prostrate^  and  creation 
clothed  afresh  with  holiness,  and  Ijeauty^  and  bUss. 
Amid  the  anthem-peal  of  praise  that  rises  up  to  Him 
from  the  ledeemed  earthy  the  psalmist  hears  the  songs 
of  infants  as  no  weak  tone  in  the  rich  diapason,  as  as- 
criptions to  the  I^amb  ^  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and 
sucklings.'  Yes,  the  beautiful  truth  stands  forth  in 
all  its  lustre,  deep  and  consolatory;  that  the  sweetest 
hymns  which  shall  be  heard  in  the  millennial  era,  will 
be  infant  hymns  ;  that  amid  the  songs  that  rise  before 
the  throne,  will  be  melodies  that  are  warbled  by  infant 
orphans'  tongues,  and  that  gush  forth  from  full  infant 
hearts.  The  unspeakably  precious  truth  comes  home 
from  this  to  every  parent,  that,  if  a  saint  of  God,  he 
shall  join  in  the  songs  of  heaven  with  his  departed  in- 
fants, who  have  already  caught  the  key-note. 

'•  In  the  twentieth  chapter  of  the  Apocalypse  we  have 
an  outline  of  the  proceedings  of  the  judgment-day, 
which  bears  somewhat  on  this  topic :  '  1  saw  the  dead, 
small  and  great,  stand  before  God ;  and  the  books  (the 
plural  number)  were  opened.'  There  are  two  books 
symbolically  referred  to  in  Scripture  :  the  book  in  which 
are  the  names  and  deeds  of  the  unbelieving,  and  the 
book  in  which  are  the  names  and  deeds  of  the  children 
of  God.     Now  after  these  two  books  were  opened,  we 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  85 

read — '  And  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the 
book  of  Hfe.'  We  connect  this  with  the  eleventh  of 
Revelation — '  And  the  nations  were  angry,  and  Thy 
wrath  is  come,  and  the  time  of  the  dead  that  they 
should  be  judged,  and  that  Thou  shouldest  give  reward 
unto  Thy  servants  the  prophets,  and  unto  the  saints 
and  them  that  fear  Thy  name,  small  and  greats 
At  the  production  of  these  three  books,  infants  are 
present,  and  therefore  we  may  presume  that  the  two 
books  contain  the  deeds  of  the  evil,  and  the  deeds  of 
the  good  ;  but  that  the  third  book,  which  is  '  the 
Lamb's  book  of  hfe,'  is  that  in  which  the  names  of  the 
lambs  of  the  flock  are  written,  and  which  I  believe  is 
the  memorial  and  record  of  those  who  barely  lived  be- 
fore they  died,  who  scarcely  breathed  the  air  of  time 
before  they  were  transferred  to  breathe  the  sweeter  and 
the  balmier  atmosphere  of  eternity. 

"  We  cannot  conceive  what  other  record  that  can  be 
which  is  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life.  On  its  tablets  the 
names  of  our  infants  now  in  glory  are  inscribed. 
Theirs  is  a  pecuhar  case,  and  theirs,  therefore,  a  specific 
but  glorious  record.  Each  name  is  illuminated  with 
everlasting  splendour,  Avhile  each  possessor  is  bathed  in 
that  flood  which  is  '  fulness  of  joy  for  evermore.' 

"  On  no  other  ground,  we  may  also  observe,  than  on 
that  of  the  universal  safety  of  deceased  infants,  can  we 
account  for  the  vast  multitudes  declared  to  be  ultimate- 
ly saved.  The  various  expressions  used  in  Scripture 
respecting  the  final  salvation  of  men,  unquestionably 
imply  that  a  very  great  number  will  be  eternally  saved. 
'  After  this  I  beheld,  and  lo,  a  great  multitude, 
which  no  man  could  number,  of  all  nations,  and  kin- 
dreds, and  people,  and  tongues,  stood  before  the  throne, 
and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and 
palms  in  their  hands ;  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  say- 

8 


86       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

ing,  Salvation  to  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb.'  'A  great  multitude 
which  no  man  can  number'  is  the  characteristic  of  the 
finally  saved ;  showing  that  it  is  not  a  minority,  but  a 
majority  that  shall  ultimately  be  admitted  to  glory. 
Christ,  in  numbers,  as  in  glory,  shall  have  the  pre-emi- 
nence. In  the  nineteenth  of  Revelation,  again,  we  read, 
'  And  I  heard  as  it  were  the  voice  of  a  great  niulti-  . 
tude,  and  as  tiie  voice  of  many  Avaters  :'  another  ex- 
pression denoting  the  vast  number  of  the  saved. 
Again  :  Christ  is  to  '  bring  iiiany  sons  unto  glory.' 
And  again  :  '  Christ  was  once  offered,  to  bear  the  sins 
of  many.^  And  again  :  '  As  by  one  man's  disobedi- 
ence many  were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of 
one  shall  many  be  made  righteous,' 

"  This  is  a  sweet  and  majestic  thought.  The  great 
multitude  will  not  be  lost.  The  prospect  dilates  the 
heart  of  philanthropy,  and  comes  home  to  us  clothed 
with  the  attributes  and  glories  of  God.  They  wrong 
our  faith  who  call  it  narrow.  They  wrong  its  foun- 
tain also.  The  myriads  shall  mount  to  glory.  Minor- 
ities only  will  sink  to  hell,  and  this  not  because  there  is 
not  room  or  welcome  in  heaven. 

"  There  are  texts  expressly  asserting  the  safety  of 
dead  infants.  There  is  one  passage  descriptive  of 
David's  feelings  on  the  loss  of  his  infant,  which,  with 
its  context,  we  quote.  '  And  the  Lord  struck  the  child 
that  Uriah's  wife  bare  unto  David,  and  it  was  very 
sick.  David,  therefore,  besought  God  for  the  child, 
and  David  fasted,  and  went  in  and  lay  all  night  upon 
the  earth.  And  the  elders  of  his  house  arose,  and  went 
to  him,  to  raise  him  up  from  the  earth,  but  he  would 
not,  neither  did  he  eat  bread  with  them.  And  it  came 
to  pass  on  the  seventh  day  that  the  child  died.  And 
the  servants  of  David  feared  to  tell  him  that  the  child 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  87 

was  dead;  for  they  said,  Behold,  while  the  child  was 
yet  alive,  we  spake  unto  him,  and  he  would  not  heark- 
en unto  our  voice,  how  will  he  then  vex  himself,  if  we 
tell  him  that  the  child  is  dead.  But  when  David  saw 
that  his  servants  whispered,  David  perceived  that  the 
child  was  dead :  therefore  David  said  unto  his  servants, 
Is  the  chi]d  dead  ?  And  they  said.  He  is  dead.  Then 
David  arose  from  the  earth,  and  washed  and  anointed 
himself,  and  changed  his  apparel,  and  came  into  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  and  worshipped  :  then  he  came  to  his 
own  house,  and  when  he  required,  they  set  bread  before 
him,  and  he  did  eat.  Then  said  his  servants  unto 
him,  "What  thing  is  this  that  thou  hast  done  ?  thou 
didst  fast  and  weep  for  the  child  while  it  was  alive,  but 
when  the  child  was  dead,  thou  didst  rise  and  eat  bread. 
And  he  said,  While  the  child  was  yet  alive,  I  fasted 
and  wept :  for  I  said.  Who  can  tell  whether  God  will 
be  gracious  to  me,  that  the  child  may  live  ?  But  now 
he  is  dead,  wherefore  should  I  fast?  can  I  bring  him 
back  again?     I  shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall 

NOT    RETURN    TO    ME.' 2  ScUll.  xii.  1.5 23. 

"  If  ever  there  was  a  case  where  the  infant  might  be 
expected  to  suffer  hereafter  for  the  father's  sin,  it  was 
that  of  David  in  this  passage.  Yet  David's  convic- 
tion of  his  own  sin,  expressed  so  poignantly  in  the  fifty- 
first  Psalm,  and  anxiety  about  his  own  spiritual  safety, 
did  not  cloud  his  assurance  of  the  safety  of  this  babe. 
He  hoped  to  meet  him  in  that  purer  and  better  land 
whither  he  had  gone  before  him." 

But  this  will  suffice  ;  although  there  are  still  remain- 
ing several  considerations  which  strengthen  our  conclu- 
sions, I  will  only  present  from  the  same  author  a  brief 
reference  to  some  objections.* 

*  See  these  fully  answered  by  Dr.  Russell. 


8g 


SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


' ;"  It  has  been  objected,  for  instance,  that  facts  prove 
that  children  are  involved  in  the  punishment  that  has 
been  executed  on  their  parents.  At  the  flood,  for  in- 
stance, when  the  world  was  destroyed,  it  is  an  un- 
doubted fact  that  millions  of  infants  must  have  per- 
ished. In  the  burning  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  many- 
infants  must  have  been  consumed.  Then,-  says  the 
objector,  reasoning  from  analogy,  as  we  see  that  infants 
do  suffer  because  of  their  parents'  transgressions  in 
time,  we  cannot  but  consistently  infer  that  infants  will 
suffer  for  their  parents'  transgressions  in  eternity.  Our 
reply  is :  there  is  no  proportion  whatever  between  suf- 
fering temporally  and  suffering  eternally  ;  these  states 
of  suffering  also  differ  not  only  in  degree  but  also  in 
character,  and  because  the  one  takes  place,  it  is  no  fair 
or  legitimate  inference  that  the  other  must  take  place 
also.  Such  visitations  in  time  may  be  essential  though 
disguised  goodness  ;  in  eternity  they  could  be  wrath 
only.  If  it  be  a  truth,  (as  we  have  asserted,  and  shall 
endeavour  to  prove,)  that  all  infants  dying  in  infancy 
are  saved,  then  the  destruction  of  the  infants  of  the  an- 
tediluvian world  was  not  wrath  but  mercy ;  not  cruelty 
but  kindness.  It  was  light  affliction  for  a  moment 
working  out  a  far  more  exceeding,  even  an  eternal 
weight  of  glory — the  wave  that  overwhelmed  the  cas- 
ket bore  the  jewel  upon  its  bosom  to  the  presence  of  the 
Redeemer,  It  was  the  translation  of  their  spirits  from 
a  world  dismantled  by  the  flood,  and  over  which  they 
would  have  looked  and  wept  and  wandered  many- 
yeared  and  miserable  pilgrims,  to  a  world  where  there 
are — 

'  No  griefs  to  feel,  no  fears  to  beat  away ; 
The  past  unsigh'd  for,  and  the  present  sure.' 

It  was  really  harvest  treading  on  the  skirts  of  spring? 
and  glory  anticipating  grace. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       89 

Titf  c<  jt  jjg^g  been  asserted  that  this  doctrine  must  necessa- 
rily prove  that  there  is  no  such  doctrine  as  election — - 
for  if  there  be  such  a  doctrine,  we  cannot  but  presume 
tiiat  some  of  half  the  human  race  who  die  in  infancy 
are  elect,  and  that  others  are  non-elect.  We  reply,  that 
whatever  be  the  meaning  or  the  mystery  of  the  doc- 
trine of  election,  it  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
this  question.  If  it  has,  then  we  may  fairly  confirm 
our  doctrine  from  its  nature,  and  maintain  that  all  chil- 
dren who  die  in  infancy  are  elect  children ;  that  they 
are  not  the  punished  and  proscribed,  but  the  pecuhar 
favourites  of  God,  the  predestined  subjects  of  glory,  to 
whom  He  has  manifested,  without  works  and  without 
merit,  the  riches  of  his  grace,  remitting  the  largest  pro- 
portion of  even  the  temporal  ccnsequences  of  the  pri- 
meval curse,  and  receiving  them  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
blessing  ere  they  have  even  known  what  it  is  to  earn 
their  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow.  In  their  case 
election  may  have  its  richest  development.  Thus  the 
very  doctrine  from  which  many  recoil,  may  have  one 
aspect  at  least  which  every  one  must  hail,  and,  what 
seems  in  my  judgment  an  unfounded  notion,  that  it  is 
a  doctrine  wrapt  in  terror  and  fraught  with  wrath,  may, 
after  all,  be  one  of  the  brightest  revelations,  instinct 
with  the  essence  of  heavenly  love,  and  significant  of 
unutterable  glory. 

"  It  has  been  objected,  also,  that  the  number  of  the 
saved  is  represented  in  scripture  always  as  small,  in 
comparison  with  the  number  of  the  lost.  For  instance  ; 
'  Many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen,'  and,  therefore, 
that  so  great  a  proportion  of  the  human  race  should  be 
eventually  saved  is  extremely  improbable.  The  text 
referred  to  is  applicable  exclusively  to  adults,  and  by  no 
possible  stretch  of  language  to  infants.  Infants  cannot 
be  *  called,'  because  they  are  incapable  of  listening  or 

a* 


90       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

yielding  obedience  to  a  call,  and  therefore  of  rejecting 
it.     Adults  only  are  capable  of  this  ;  they  alone  are  the 

*  called/  and  of  them,  it  is  true,  the  few  are  chosen. 
It  is  a  truth  as  painful  to  the  heart  as  it  is  palpable  to  the 
eye,  that  of  adults  the  great  majority  live  far  from  God, 

*  strangers  to  the  covenant  of  promise,'  If  we  quote  Lon- 
don, for  instance,  the  metropolis  of  the  world,  we  find  that 
perhaps  600,000,  or  probably  nearer  a  million,  out  of  its 
two  millions,  never  enter  a  place  of  worship  at  all ;  and  of 
those  who  do  enter  places  of  worship,  how  few  are  there, 
whose  hearts  are  reallysavingly  touched,  whose  souls 
are  truly  renewed,  who  have  felt  the  Gospel  not  merely 
in  its  letter,  but  in  its  power, — not  only  as  a  word,  but 
as  the  wisdom  and  power  of  God !  This  we  do  not 
deny  ;  but  we  are  not  to  forget,  that,  whilst  scripture 
represents  the  number  of  adults  that  now  reject  the 
Gospel  as  still  many,  the  same  scripture  represents  the 
sum  total  of  the  saved  by  the  gospel,  at  the  winding  up 
of  its  solemn  dispensation,  as  very  numerous.  Its  lan- 
guage is  that  of  '  a  multitude  no  man  can  number.' 
It  was  promised,  that  Abraham's  seed  (that  is.  Chris- 
tians,) should  be  '  Uke  the  stars  of  heaven  for  multi- 
tude ;' — that  tliey  should  be  upon  the  earth  as  the  dew- 
drops  of  the  morning  ;  that  they  should  be  hke  the 
sands  upon  the  sea-shore.  And,  therefore,  while  it 
seems  true  that  a  majority  of  adults  are  lost  in  the  pres- 
ent day,  and  under  the  present  dispensation,  it  is  still 
not  true  (and  this  is  a  dehghtful  fact)  that  the  majority 
of  the  human  race  as  a  whole  will  be  ultimately  lost. 
If  half  the  human  race  die  in  infancy,  and  if  infants 
are  universally  saved,  then  the  glorious  result  evolves, 
amid  feelings  of  joy  and  holy  gratitude  to  every  heart, 
that  the  great  majority  of  the  human  race  shall  be 
saved  ;  and  that  instead  of  a  small  number  only  event- 
ually reaching  glory,  '  a  great  multitude,  whom  no  man 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       91 

can  number,'  shall  stand  before  the  throne  with  palms 
in  their  hands,  kings  and  conquerors  and  priests, 
through  Him  that  loved  them  and  waslied  them  in  his 
blood,  and  redeemed  them  out  of  every  kindred  and 
people  and  tongue. 

"  We  purposely  abstain  from  even  mentioning  many 
other  objections.  A  fertile  fancy  and  a  repugnance  to 
a  truth  may  invent  innumerable  objections.  Abuses, 
also,  may  be  appended  to  it,  but  for  these  it  is  not  an- 
swerable. Use  is  God's  destiny  of  things  ;  abuse  is  the 
perversion  of  man.  Heaven's  best  blessings  have  been 
perverted.  Evil  men  can  turn  any  mercy  into  means  of 
evil.  It  is  one  of  the  effects  of  sin,  that  man  has  in 
every  instance  the  secret  of  that  awful  chemistry  which 
can  transmute  a  blessing  into  a  bane,  and  distil  deadly 
poison  from  precious  truths.  The  tarantula  spider  ex- 
tracts poison  from  the  most  delicious  blossoms.  So  man 
can  extract  poison  from  the  fruits  of  the  tree  of  life, 
and  death  from  the  very  leaves  which  are  for  the  heal- 
ing of  the  nations  of  the  earth.  But,  to  object  to  a 
doctrine  because  it  may  be  abused,  or  to  reject  it  because 
it  ma}^  be  perverted,  is  just  to  imitate  the  man  who 
would  cut  down  a  beautiful  fruit-tree,  because  caterpil- 
lars find  food  from  its  leaves,  and  spiders  weave  their 
webs  amid  its  branches.  We  must  test  conclusions  by 
'  the  law  and  the  testimony,'  and  not  by  the  fancied 
abuses  to  which  they  may  be  open. 

''  Grace  has  been  made  the  pretext  for  licentiousness, 
and  that  cross  on  which  man's  sins  ought  to  be  cruci- 
fied, has  been  used  to  cover  and  conceal  them." 

I  shall  only,  therefore,  in  the  language  of  Dr.  Russell, 
advert  to  the  objection,  that  to  maintain  the  certainty 
of  the  salvation  of  all  who  die  in  infancy,  is  calcula- 
ted to  induce  parents  to  be  less  fervent  in  prayer  for 
their  children  while  in  that  state,  or  when  they  are 


92       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

apparently  dying  in  it,  because  they  will  conclude  that 
in  such  circumstances  there  is  little  or  no  call  for  sup- 
plications in  their  behalf.  In  addition  to  what  has  al- 
ready been  said,  in  reply  to  this  objection,  it  remains 
to  be  observed,  that  it  proceeds  upon  the  principle  that 
some,  even  of  the  infants  of  Christian  parents,  may 
eternally  perish,  for  otherwise  there  could  be  no  uncer- 
tainty on  the  subject.  If,  again,  there  be  no  uncer- 
tainty in  regard  to  the  salvation  of  the  dying  infants  of 
believing  parents,  then  the  objection  is  as  strong  against 
this  view  of  the  subject,  as  against  that  which  is  now 
pleaded  for.  It  follows,  then,  that  those  who  make  this 
objection,  so  far  from  considering  the  promises  respect- 
ing the  children  of  believers,  as  including  the  certain 
salvation  of  all  of  them  who  die  in  infancy,  actually 
think  that  a  great  degree  of  imcertainty  hangs  upon 
the  subject.  Now,  do  any  who  take  this  view  of  the 
subject  feel  the  smallest  scruple  as  to  the  propriety  of 
praying  for  the  salvation  of  the  dying  infants  of  unbe- 
lievers ?  And  if  they  do  not,  they  of  course  allow  that  at 
least  some  of  the  infants  of  such  may  be  saved,  for  if  they 
do  not  believe  this,  why  do  they  pray  for  them  any 
more  than  for  fallen  angels  ?  On  this  principle  they 
ought  only  to  pray  for  the  conversion  of  the  parents,  and 
not  in  the  first  instance,  in  behalf  of  the  children. 

It  is  to  be  hoped,  however,  that  none  will  say,  that  it 
is  sinful  to  pray  for  such  children,  and  that  no  Chris- 
tian will  fail  to  pray  that  they  may  be  saved.  Indeed, 
it  is  generally  allowed,  even  by  those  who  hesitate  as 
to  the  salvation  of  all  infants,  that  some  of  the  infants, 
even  of  unbehevers,  shall  be  saved. 

If,  then,  the  objectors  in  question  allow  that  some  of 
the  infant  children  of  unbelievers  may  be  saved,  what 
is  this  but  saying  of  them  what  they  say  of  the  infant 
children  of  believers,  for  the  objection  supposes  that  all 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  93 

even  of  such,  are  not  to  be  saved  ?  Is  not  this  com- 
pletely to  give  up  the  point  ?  Does  it  not  place  the  in- 
fant children  of  believers  and  unbelievers  as  much  on  a 
par,  as  does  their  indiscriminate  salvation  ?  In  vain, 
therefore,  is  any  objection  on  this  ground  brought 
against  the  sentiment  now  pleaded  for.  If  again  it  be 
said,  that  there  is  a  certainty  of  the  salvation  of  the 
infants  of  believers,  but  not  of  other  infants,  then,  as 
has  been  hinted,  the  objection  is  as  applicable  to  Chris- 
tian prayer,  in  regard  to  the  former,  as  it  is  on  the  prin- 
ciple, that  all  infants  are  saved. 

This  objection  supposes,  too,  that  such  parents  deem 
it  needless,  if  not  absurd,  to  pray  for  that  of  which  we 
have  a  promise,  or  of  the  accomplishment  of  which  we 
are  certain.  But  will  any  pious  and  rightly  informed 
parent  reason  in  this  way  ?  David  had  a  promise 
made  him,  that  his  house  and  kingdom  should  be  es- 
tablished for  ever,  and  yet  no  sooner  did  he  hear  it, 
than  we  find  him  praying  that  it  might  be  accomplish- 
ed. '•'  And  now,  O  Lord  God,  the  word  that  thou  hast 
spoken  concerning  thy  servant,  and  concerning  his 
house,  establish  it  for  ever,  and  do  as  thou  hast  said."* 
After  making  many  promises  to  his  people,  God  says, 
"  I  will  yet  for  this  be  inquired  of  by  the  house  of  Is- 
rael to  do  it  for  them."t  When  Daniel  knew  that  the 
time  of  deliverance  from  Babylon  was  at  hand,  he  be- 
came the  more  earnest  in  prayer  for  it.t  Are  not 
Christians  assured  that  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  shall 
cover  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea,  and  does 
not  this  assurance  encourage  and  stimulate  to  prayer, 
instead  of  causing  them  to  relax  in  it  ?  And  will  not 
the  assurance  that  their  infant  offspring,  when  taken 
hence,  are  removed  to  the  heavenly  paradise,  call  forth 

*  2  Sam.  vii.  16,  25.        t  Ezekiel  xxxvi.  37.         X  Dan.  ix.  2,  3. 


94  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

the  aspirations  of  a  devout  and  a  thankful  heart  ?  Will 
it  not  lead  parents  to  devote  them  to  the  God  of  all 
grace,  and  the  Father  of  mercies  ?  And  when  they  sit 
by  the  death-bed  of  their  departing  infants,  will  not  this 
confidence  endear  to  them  the  cross  and  resurrection 
of  the  heavenly  Adam,  will  it  not  enlarge  their  views 
of  the  exuberant  grace  of  God,  of  the  glory  of  the 
work  of  Christ,  and  of  the  preciousness  and  suitable- 
ness of  the  hope  of  the  gospel  ?  and  will  it  not  attract 
their  liearts  towards  the  God  of  ail  consolation,  whose 
glorious  perfections  are  employed  in  bringing  good  out 
of  evil,  and  and  in  making  all  things  to  work  together 
for  the  present  and  the  future  blessedness  of  his  people  ? 
And  can  views  and  feehngs  such  as  these  cause  to 
restrain  prayer  before  God  ?     Far,  very  far  from  it. 

How  consoling  are  the  views  which  this  subject  pre- 
sents to  those  parents  who  are  bereaved  of  their  chil- 
dren !  Theirs  is  privilege  as  well  as  pain.  Of  the 
destiny  of  their  little  ones  who  have  preceded  them  we 
have  no  manner  of  doubt.  It  has  not  been  thus  with 
all  Christian  parents :  Job  saw  his  sons  and  his  daugh- 
ters in  the  meridian  of  age  laid  prostrate  before  him. 
Aaron  beheld  his  two  sons  struck  down  by  the  bolt  of 
heaven,  in  the  midst  of  their  rebellion  against  God. 
But  it  can  be  little  painful  in  comparison,  to  the  Chris- 
tian parent,  to  behold  an  infant  die,  because  he  knows 
that  that  infant  has  been  forgiven  not  only  its  orig- 
inal sin,  but  forgiven,  in  addition,  through  the  rich 
mercy  of  God,  its  seventy  years  of  weary  pilgrimage. 
It  has  gained  the  crown  vvdthout  the  turmoil — reached 
the  goal  without  running  of  the  course ;  its  harvest 
has  been  heaped  upon  its  seed-time ;  it  has  reaped 
without  sowing.  Its  is  a  distinguishing  privilege,  and 
surely  no  Christian  parent  w^ould  wish  an  infant  back 
again  to  earth.     Could  you  say,  let  me  ask  of  every 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       96 

l>arent  that  has  lost  an  infant — could  you  say  to  your 
infant,  if  it  were  to  come  back,  Weep  no  more,  my 
child  ?     Could  you  dry  all  the  tears  from  its  eye,  so 
that  it  should  mourn  no  more  ?   What  could  you  prom- 
ise it  7     Seventy  years  of  sore  pilgrimage  at  the  very 
best,  in  a  world  where  men  must  become  almost  mar- 
tyrs to  get  their  daily  bread :  where  all  is  hollow,  de- 
ceptive, unreal,  and  where  every  moment  as  it  speeds 
tells  us  that  the  great  ocean-stream  of  eternity  is  rush- 
ing onwards,  and  carrying  millions  unprepared  to  the 
judgment-seat  of  God.     Better  is  the  babe  in  its  Fa- 
ther's home.    .We  do  not  wish  to  recal  it.     The  tears 
of  nature  are  wiped  away  by  the  hand  of  grace.     We 
do  not  sorrow  because  our  infants  are  removed.     We 
rejoice.     "  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away.     Blessed  be  His  name,  and  blessed  are  the  dead 
that  died  in  Him,  for  they  rest  from   their  labours." 
They  go  (happy  and  holy  ones)  from  a  life  of  martyr- 
dom to  a  life  of  millennial  blessedness  ;  and  if  an  infant 
tongue  in  heaven  could  be  audible  on  earth,  that  infant's 
tongue  would  say— Weep  not  for  me ;  "  if  ye  loved  me, 
ye  would  rejoice,  because  I  am  gone  unto  my  Father." 

THE  DYING  INFANT  TO  ITS  MOTHER. 

Cease  here  longer  to  detain  me, 

Fondest  mother,  drowned  in  woe, 
Now  thy  kind  caresses  pain  me, 

Morn  advances — let  me  go. 

See  yon  orient  streak  appearing, 

Harbinger  of  endless  day : 
Hark  !  a  voice  the  darkness  cheering, 

Calls  my  new-born  soul  away. 

Lately  launched,  a  trembling  stranger, 
On  the  world's  wild,  boisterous  flood, 

Pierced  with  sorrows,  tossed  with  danger, 
Gladly  I  return  to  God. 


96       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Now  my  cries  shall  cease  to  grieve  thee, 

Now  my  trembling  heart  find  rest ; 
Kinder  arms  than  thine  receive  me, 

Softer  pillow  than  thy  breast. 

There,  my  mother,  pleasures  centre  ; 

Weeping,  parting,  care,  or  woe,  ' 

Ne'er  our  Father's  house  shall  enter : 

Morn  advances — let  me  go. 

Yes,  bereaved  parents,  the  hour  is  on  the  wing  when 
we  shall  meet  them,  and  mingle  our  liosannahs  with 
theirs. 


EPITAPH  ON  A  CHILD. 


Sleep  on,  my  babe  !  thy  little  bed 

Is  cold,  indeed,  and  narrow ; 
Yet  calmly  there  shall  rest  thy  head, 
And  neither  mortal  pain  nor  dread 
Shall  e'er  thy  feelings  harrow  ! 

Thou  may' St  no  more  return  to  me ; 

But  there's  a  time,  my  dearest. 
When  I  shall  lay  me  down  by  thee. 
And  when  of  all,  my  babe  shall  be 

That  sleep  around,  the  nearest ! 

And  sound  our  sleep  shall  be,  my  child. 

Were  earth's  foundations  shaken  ; 
Till  He,  the  pure,  the  undefil'd, 
Who  once,  like  thee,  an  infant  smil'd. 
The  dead  to  life  awaken  ! 

Then,  if  to  Him,  with  faith  sincere, 

My  babe  at  death  was  given, 
The  kindred  tie  that  bound  us  here, 
Though  rent  apart  with  many  a  tear. 
Shall  be  renewed  in  Heaven  ! 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  97 

OH,  WEEP  NOT  FOR  THE  DEAD. 

MARY    E.    BROOKS. 

Oh,  weep  not  for  the  dead ! 

Rather,  oh  rather  give  the  tear 

To  th»se  that  darkly  linger  here, 
When  all  besides  are  fled. 

Weep  for  the  spiiit  withering 

In  its  cold  cheerless  sorrowing, 

Weep  for  the  young  and  lovely  one 

That  ruin  darkly  revels  on ; 

But  never  be  a  tear-drop  shed 

For  them,  the  pure  enfranchised  dead. 

Oh,  weep  not  for  the  dead ! 

No  more  for  them  the  blighting  chill. 

The  thousand  shades  of  earthly  ill, 
The  thousand  thorns  we  tread ; 

Weep  for  the  life-charm  early  flown. 

The  spirit  broken,  bleeding,  lone ; 

Weep  for  the  death-pangs  of  the  heart, 

Ere  being  from  the  bosom  part ; 
But  never  be  a  tear-drop  given 
To  those  that  rest  in  yon  blue  heaven. 


POUR  NOT  THE  VOICE  OF  GRIEF. 

ROBERT    MORRIS. 

Pour  not  the  voice  of  grief 

Above  the  sable  bier  ! 
The  weary  spirit  finds  relief 

In  some  more  hallowed  sphere. 
What  recks  it  that  the  lip 

Hath  lost  its  thrilling  hue — 
Untainted  was  their  fellowship 

As  blushing  rose  and  dew. 
And  now — too  soon  a  creeping  thing, 
Will,  like  a  leech,  there  feed  and  diag  I 
9 


98       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Yet  weep  not  for  the  dead 

Who  early  pass  away, 
Ere  hope  and  joy  and  youth  have  fled, 

Ere  woe  has  wro-ught  decay  ? 
Better  to  die  in  youth, 

When  life  is  green  and  bright, 
Than  when  the  heart  has  lost  its  truth 

In  age  and  sorrow's  night — 
Then  woes  and  years  around  us  throng, 
And  death'.*  chill  grasp  is  on  us  long. 

Life  is  a  rifled  flower 

When  love's  pure  visions  fade — 
A  broken  spell — ^a  faded  hour — 

An  echo — and  a  shade  I 
The  poet's  thirst  for  fame, 

And  siren  beauty's  kiss, 
Ambition's  height,  and  honour's  name, 
••  But  yield  a  phantom  bliss — 

And  man  turns  back  from  every  goal 
Thirsting  for  some  high  bliss  of  soul. 

Would  I  had  died  when  young ! 

How  many  burning  tears. 
And  wasted  hopes,  and  severed  ties. 

Had  spared  my  after  years  ! 
And  she  on  whose  pale  brow 

The  damp  and  cold  earth  lies, 
Whose  pure  heart  in  its  virgin  glow 

Was  mirrored  in  dark  eyes ! 
Would  I  had  faded  soon  with  her, 
My  boyhood's  earliest  worshipper  ! 

Pour  not  the  voice  of  woe  ! 

Shed  not  a  burning  tear 
When  spirits  from  the  cold  earth  go. 

Too  bright  to  linger  here  ! 
Unsullied  let  them  pass 

Into  oblivion's  tomb — 
Like  snow-flakes  melting  in  the  sea 

When  rife  with  vestal  bloom. 
Then  st^^w  fresh  powers  above  the  grave, 
And  let  th^  tail  grafs  o'ei  it  wave  ) 


CHAPTER  V. 


CHILDREN  ARE  TAKEN  AWAY  IN  INFANCY  FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OP 
THE  LIVING. 


The  cup  of  life  just  to  her  lips  she  prest, 
Found  the  tjiste  bitter,  and  declined  the  rest : 
Averse,  then  turning  from  the  face  of  day, 
She  softly  sighed  her  infant  soul  away. 

Epitaph  on  an  Infant. 

**  But  for  myself  I  bless  God  I  have  observed  and  felt  so  much  mercy 
in  this  angry  dispensation  of  God,  that  I  am  almost  transported  ;  I  am 
sure  highly  pleased  with  thinking  how  infinitely  sweet  his  mercies  are, 
v^hen  his  judgments  are  so  gracious." — Jeremy  Taylor  on  the  loss  of 
two  children. 


Attention  has  been  already  called  to  several  pas- 
sages of  Scriplure,  and  to  the  subject  of  infant  salva- 
tion, which  they  bring  to  view.  In  considering  them, 
I  have  endeavoured  to  give  full  force  to  that  mystery 
which  naturally  surrounds  this  subject,  and  to  that 
grief  which  the  death  of  infants  awakens  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  are  called  to  witness  it,  and  to  endure  the 
bitterness  of  consequent  separation.  But  with  the 
light  of  this  heavenly  revelation  as  a  guide,  I  have  ad- 
ventured into  the  depth  of  this  gloomy  subject,  and 
there  found,  I  trust,  inscribed  upon  it  words  of  peace 
and  comfort — nay,  even  of  joy.  Instead  of  mystery, 
there  is  around  it  bright  evidence  of  wisdom  and  good- 
ness: instead  of  cruelty,  there  was  discovered  to  be 
mercy;  and  thus,  instead  of  withdrawing  our  affec- 
tions from  Him  who  is  the  arbiter  of  our  destiny,  and 
of  the  destiny  of  our  children,  it  draws  them  towards 


100  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

him  with  still  stronger  power.  The  removal  of  infants 
while  in  a  state  of  infancy,  I  feel  satisfied  is  in  mercy 
to  them.  In  mercy,  if  it  is  considered  as  affecting  them 
temporally  ;  in  delivering  them  from  all  the  evils  of  this 
evil  world,  and  that  before  they  are  capable  of  appre- 
hending future  suffering,  or  lamenting  over  the  loss  of 
futm-e  and  anticipated  good.  And  in  mercy  consider- 
ing it  as  it  affects  them  eternally ; — in  at  once  redeem- 
ing them  from  our  sad  inheritance  of  guilt  and  deprav- 
ity ; — in  at  once  freeing  them  from  the  curse  of  the 
fall ; — rescuing  them  from  the  power  of  sin  and  Satan  ; 
— admitting  them  to  the  privileges  of  the  sons  of  God^ 
.and  introducing  them  to  the  glorious  liberty,  and  the 
blissful  occupations,  of  the  bright  world  on  high. 

One  half  the  human  race  are  thus  early  taken  from 
their  parents,  their  home,  their  family  and  their  friends, 
and  thus  cut  off  from  the  future  struggles  of  this  toil- 
some life,  through  the  mercy  of  our  God,  "  having  an 
entrance  administered  unto  them,"  through  the  impu- 
ted merits  of  the  Saviour's  righteousness,  and  in  virtue 
of  his  atonement,  "  into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,"  being  washed,  sanc- 
tified, justified,  and  completely  redeemed.  Having 
clean  escaped  the  corruptions  that  are  in  this  world 
through  lust,  they  are  made  partakers  of  the  divine  na- 
ture, admitted  to  the  divine  presence,  exalted  to  be 
ministering  spirits,  kings  and  priests  unto  God.  Happy 
spirits  !  who  have  passed  through  this  vale  of  tears,  ere 
the  fountain  of  tears  had  been  unsealed ; — who  have 
journeyed  through  this  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
while  the  gleam  of  the  morning's  sunshine  irradiated  it 
with  joyful  hope  ;  who  encountered  the  last  enemy  of 
sinful  man  while  disarmed  of  his  sting,  and  disrobed  of 
his  terrors  ; — and  whose  wliole  eternity  of  happiness 
will  have  been  vmbroken  by  the  sorrows,  the  pains,  and 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      101 

the  remorseful  agonies  which  fall  in  such  showers  of  mis- 
ery, upon  those  who  linger  through  hfe's  sad  vicissitudes. 

"  Happy,  thrice  happy  were  they  thus  to  die, 
Rather  than  grow  into  such  men  and  women, 
— Such  fiends  incarnate  as  that  felon-sire, 
Who  dug  its  grave  before  his  child  was  born ; 
Such  miserable  wretches  as  that  mother. 
Whose  tender  mercies  were  so  deadly  cruel ! 
I  saw  their  infant's  spirit  rise  to  heaven. 
Caught  from  its  birth  up  to  the  throne  of  God ; 
There,  thousands  and  ten  thousands,  I  beheld, 
Of  innocents  like  this,  that  died  untimely, 
By  violence  of  their  unnatural  kin, 
Or  by  the  mercy  of  that  gracious  Power, 
W^ho  gave  them  being,  taking  what  he  gave 
Ere  they  could  sin  or  suffer  like  their  parents. 
I  saw  them  in  white  raiment  crown'd  with  flowers, 
On  the  fair  banks  of  that  resplendent  river. 
Whose  streams  make  glad  the  city  of  our  God ; 
— Water  of  life,  as  clear  as  crystal  swelling 
Forth  from  the  throne  itself,  and  visiting 
Fields  of  a  Paradise  that  ne'er  was  lost  ; 
Where  yet  the  tree  of  life  immortal  grows. 
And  bears  its  monthly  fruits,  twelve  kinds  of  fruit, 
Each  in  its  season,  food  of  saints  and  angels  ; 
Whose  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  its  blessed  boughs, 
I  mark'd  those  rescued  infants,  in  their  schools. 
By  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  taught 
The  glorious  lessons  of  Almighty  Love, 
Which  brought  them  thither  in  the  readiest  path 
From  the  world's  wilderness  of  dire  temptations 
Securing  thus  their  everlasting  weal. 

Yea,  in  the  rapture  of  that  hour,  though  songs 
Of  cherubim  to  golden  lyres  and  trumpets. 
And  the  redeem'd  upon  the  sea  of  glass, 
With  voices  like  the  sound  of  many  waters. 
Came  on  mine  ear,  whose  secret  cells  were  open'd 
To  entertain  celestial  harmonies, 
— The  small,  sweet  accents  of  those  little  children, 
Pouring  out  all  the  gladness  of  their  souls 


102      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

In  love,  joy,  gratitude,  and  praises  to  Him, 

— Him,  who  had  lov'd  and  wash'd  them  in  his  blood ; 

These  were  to  me  the  most  transporting  strains, 

Amidst  the  hallelujah's  of  all  Heaven. — 

Though  lost  awhile  in  that  amazing  chorus 

Around  the  throne, — at  happy  intervals, 

The  shrill  hosannas  of  the  infant  choir, 

Singing  in  that  eternal  temple,  brought 

Tears  to  mine  eye,  whilst  seraphs  had  been  glad 

To  weep,  could  they  have  felt  the  sympathy 

That  melted  all  my  soul,  when  I  beheld 

How  condescending  Deity  thus  design'd. 

Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings  here, 

To  perfect  his  high  praises ; — the  harp  of  heaven 

Had  lack'd  its  least  but  not  its  meanest  string, 

Had  children  not  been  taught  to  play  upon  it, 

And  sing,  from  feelings  all  their  own,  what  men 

Nor  angels  can  conceive  of  creatures,  born 

Under  the  curse,  yet  from  the  curse  redeem'd. 

And  placed  at  once  beyond  the  power  to  fall, 

— Safety  which  men  nor  angels  ever  knew. 

Till  ranks  of  these,  and  all  of  those  had  fallen."* 

Why  then,  it  may  be  asked,  do  such  infants  live  at 
all,  seeing  they  are  thus  destined  to  press  onwards  to 
eternity  ?  They  live,  that  they  may  become  actually 
existent  beings ; — they  live  that  they  may  become 
mortal ; — that  they  may  be  united  to  the  human  fam- 
ily ;  that  they  may  be  enrolled  among  the  citizens  of 
earth  ; — and  that  thus  they  may  become  heirs  to  all 
the  privileges,  and  entitled  to  all  the  blessings  provided 
for  the  race  of  men.  By  their  relation  to  the  first 
Adam,  they  are  related  to  the  second  Adam.  By  their 
incorporation  with  Adam,  in  the  covenant  of  works, 
they  are  held  equally  capable  of  all  the  benefits  of  the 
covenant  of  grace.  Their  first  birth  thus  prepares 
them  for  their  second  birth — their  entrance  upon  earth 

*  See  Montgomery's  Pelican  Island,  canto  vii.,  where  he  describee  a 
heathen  parent  sacrificing  her  child. 


SqiiACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  103 

is  the  commencement  of  their  bright  pathway  to  the 
skies.  And  being  thus  introduced  within  the  pale  of 
humanity,  they  are  called  to  the  endurance  of  suffer- 
ing, in  order  that  by  inheriting  the  curse  of  mortality 
they  may  thus  be  placed  under  its  remedy :  in  order 
that  these  present  light  afflictions  may  work  out  for 
them  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory ;  and 
that  through  their  suffering,  their  survivors  may  be 
benefited  and  improved. 

This  is  and  must  be  the  case,  for  if  any  of  those  who 
die  in  infancy  are  not  chosen  of  God  to  salvation,  to 
what  are  they  left  b}^  Him  ?  Is  it  to  the  impenitence 
and  hardening  influence  of  their  hearts  ?  No,  for  they 
are  removed  before  they  are  capable  of  actual  sin,  and 
of  course,  while  incapable  of  despising  his  goodness,  or 
taking  occasion  from  it,  to  harden  their  hearts  against 
Him.  Is  it  to  the  consequences  of  Adam's  sin  ?  No, 
for  they  shall  rise  again.  Is  it  to  the  sufferings  and 
penalties  entailed  by  sin  upon  this  evil  world  ?  No,  for 
God  has  in  mercy  removed  them  from  it.  Say,  then, 
are  not  all  who  die  in  infancy  chosen  to  inherit  ever- 
lasting life  through  the  grace  of  God,  flowing  through 
the  atonement  of  Christ  ? 

This  brings  me  to  the  brief  consideration  of  my  sec- 
ond position,  that  the  early  removal  of  infants  is  not 
only  in  mercy  to  them,  but  also  in  goodness  to  us.  Af- 
ter the  satisfactory  establishment  of  the  first  position, 
there  will  be  little  room  for  questioning  the  truth  and 
certainty  of  the  second,  for  if  this  dispensation  of  Prov- 
idence is  of  unquestionable  mercy,  considered  as  affect- 
ing infants  in  their  temporal  and  eternal  prospects,  how 
can  we  but  conclude  that  it  is  also  kind  in  its  bearing, 
upon  ourselves.  Can  our  interests  be  different  from,  or 
opposed  to,  those  of  our  children  ?  Can  they  be  hapgy, 
a^(i  we  miserable  ofi  their  account?     Can  tjiejr  wjfj?. 


104  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PAREN-fS. 

fare  be  certainly  and  immeasurably  promoted,  and  their 
parents  left  any  reasonable  ground  for  lamentation  or 
regret?  No  !  their  interests  are  ours  ; — their  happiness 
ours; — and  their  advancement  ours.  "If  love  (says 
Baxter)  teaches  us  to  mourn  with  them  that  mourn, 
and  to  rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice,  can  it  be  an  act 
of  rational  love  to  mourn  for  them  that  are  possessed 
of  the  highest  everlasting  joys  ?"  Oh,  no  !  hke  Legh 
Richmond,  we  may  press  the  hfeless  remains  of  our  de- 
parted child  to  our  bosom,  and  in  the  agony  of  grief 
burst  into  tears,  but  like  him  let  us,  as  we  struggle  with 
nature's  anguish,  exclaim,  "  My  child  is  a  saint  in 
glory." 

We  wish  our  children  to  be  happy.  Having  been 
instrumental  to  their  birth,  we  are  solicitous  for  their 
welfare.  Bearing  our  image,  reflecting  our  every  qual- 
ity, and  living  in  our  life,  we  feel  that  their  comfort  is 
one  and  identical  with  our  own.  And  are  our  children 
happy  here  ;  happy  while  called  to  struggle  with  so 
many  infantile  diseases,  dangers  and  accidents  ?  Even 
if  comparatively  happy  in  this  age,  when  their  igno- 
rance is  their  bliss,  and  their  very  helplessness  the  source 
of  their  enjoyment; — will  they  be  always  so?  In  the 
very  region  of  storms,  can  they  escape  their  ravages  ? 
— surrounded  by  misery,  can  they  remain  unharmed 
by  its  malignant  influence? — breathing  the  atmosphere 
of  pollution,  can  they  be  saved  from  its  corruption  ? — 
and  exposed  to  the  shipwreck  of  their  present  character 
and  the  loss  of  their  future  and  everlasting  hopes,  where 
is  there  security  for  their  preservation  or  deliverance  ? 
"  There  is  a  death  worse  than  the  death  of  the  body, — 
the  death  of  aflfection,  of  reputation,  of  conscience,  of 
the  soul.  Parental  hopes  may  be  crushed  by  the  mis- 
conduct of  children,  more  than  by  the  closing  of  the 
grave's  portals.     They  may  live  only  to  treasure  up 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  105 

wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  hring  down  the 
grey  hairs  of  pious  parents  with  sorrow  to  the  grave." 


The  snare  is  before  them,  the  pang  and  the  sorrow, 
The  breath  of  the  Syren,  the  voice  of  the  rod, 

The  crime  of  to-day,  the  despair  of  to-morrow. 
And  all  that  can  sever  the  soul  from  its  God. 


"  See  that  son  of  many  prayers  ;  he  was  consecrated  to 
God  in  infancy.  How  anxiously  do  those  Christian  pa- 
rents watch  every  indication  of  sobriety.  How  ardently 
do  they  hope  it  may  result  in  his  salvation.  What  des- 
pondency and  sinking  of  heart  do  they  experience,  as 
they  behold  him  grow  up  in  impenitence.  He  is  about 
to  leave  his  father's  house ;  his  mother  gives  him  a  Bi- 
ble, and  begs  him  to  read  it.  But  as  he  passes  beyond 
the  reach  of  parental  restraint,  he  casts  off  fear,  restrains 
prayer,  takes  his  seat  with  the  scorner,  and,  with  the 
drunkard's  unmeaning  laugh,  scoffs  at  the  Bible,  and 
the  Bible's  God.  Behold  him  now  the  grief  of  parents, 
the  shame  of  friends  ;  an  outcast  from  society.  Were 
it  not  for  the  hope  that  at  some  future  period  he  might 
be  overtaken  by  divine  grace,  and  peradventure  might 
repent,  would  it  not  be  the  spontaneous  language  of 
those  afflicted  parents,  '  Would  God,  my  son,  that  you 
had  never  been  born  ;  would  that  you  had  died  in  in- 
fancy, ere  such  a  measure  of  guilt  and  wrath  had  been 
treasured  up  against  you !'  And  now  let  him  be  laid 
upon  his  dying  bed,  let  all  hope  of  his  repentance  be 
taken  away  ;  and  see  him  pass  into  eternity  with  all 
his  sins  upon  his  head,  and  what  consolation  can  cheer 
the  midnight  gloom  of  such  bereavement?  Be  assu- 
red that  there  is  a  measure  of  grief  in  that  affliction, 
compared  with  which  all  else  is  nothing.  When  Da- 
vid's infant  child  was  dead,  he  arose,  washed,  anointed 


106  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

himself,  and  took  refreshment :  but  when  Absalom  died, 
deep  in  sin  and  rebellion,  his  heart  broke,  and  burst  out 
in  an  irrepressible  flood  of  grief, — '  O  my  son  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  Absalom,  would  God  I  had  died  for 
thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  !' " — But  are  our 
children  gone  ?  Have  we  committed  them  to  an  early 
grave  ?  Do  they  sleep  the  sleep  of  death  ?  And  are 
they  not  happy  ?  Have  I  not  proved  that  they  arc 
happy — happy  to  the  full  extent  of  their  capacities — 
happy  with  the  perfect  bhss  of  heaven  ? 

O  !  mourn  not  for  the  dead, 
The  happy  dead  who  die  in  infancy — 
Calm  is  their  slumber  in  the  church-yard  bed, 
Called  early  from  life's  struggles  to  their  rest, 
Ere  yet  to  their  unconscious  lip  was  prest 
The  mingled  cup  of  frail  humanity. 
Oh  do  not  mourn  for  them,  their  lot  is  blest. 

No  more  confined  to  grov'ling  scenes  of  night, 
No  more  sad  tenants  pent  in  mortal  clay ; 
Now  should  we  rather  hail  their  glorious  flight, 
And  trace  their  journey  to  the  realms  of  joy. 

We  are  not  only  desirous  to  see  our  children  happy, 
but  to  have  that  liappiness  made  sure  to  them.  This 
is  the  great  struggle  of  earthly  ambition, — the  fond  de- 
sire of  parents.  It  is  their  uncertainty,  their  instabihty 
which  most  painfully  characterizes  the  joys  of  life. 
"  The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away."  That  which 
is  of,  or  connected  with,  the  earth,  cannot  endure. 
Like  its  own  changing  seasons,  its  own  uncertain  sky, 
its  3wn  ever-varying  phenomena,  it  abideth  not.  And 
the  foresight  of  such  coming  changes,  preparation  for 
them,  and  the  erection  of  some  safe  retreat,  where  we 
and  ours  may  take  refuge,  and  where  our  children  may 
escape  the  rough  adversities  of  life — this  is  the  highest 


SOLACE   FOR   BEREAVED   PARENTS.  10-7 

wisdom  of  man.  But  the  happiness  of  departed  infants, 
is  it  not  secure  and  certain  ?  Does  it  not  rest  on  found- 
ations, immoveable  by  wind  or  flood  ?  The  anchor  of 
their  hope,  is  it  not  within  the  vail  ?  The  foundation 
of  their  joye,  does  it  not  rise  in  the  paradise  of  God? 
The  tenure  of  their  bliss,  is  it  not  guaranteed  by  the 
promise  and  the  oath  of  Him  who  cannot  lie,— who  will 
not  deny  himself,  and  who  is  the  same,  yesterday,  to- 
day, and  forever  ?  It  is.  And  let  then  even  reason 
itself  teach  us  to  submit,  and  to  rejoice  in  hope. 

The  Kev.  J.  S.  Meissner,  Moravian  missionary  in 
Labrador,  observes,  "  We  have  known  what  it  is  to 
mourn  over  the  loss  of  beloved  children,  having  accom- 
panied two  to  their  resting-place  during  our  service  in 
this  distant  land.  I  was  once  standing  by  the  grave  of 
my  departed  children,  under  a  brilliant  sun  and  cloud- 
less sky,  when  suddenly  a  light  shadow  passed  over  the 
green  turf.  Looking  up  for  the  cause,  I  beheld  a  snow- 
white  gull  winging  her  lofty  flight  through  the  air. 
The  thought  immediately  struck  me— Thus  it  is  with 
the  dear  objects  of  my  mournful  remembrance.  Here 
indeed  lies  the  shadow,  but  above  is  the  living  principle. 
Nor  was  the  reflection  without  comfort  to  my  wounded 
spirit,  since  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

But  again,  we  have  made  some  tolerable  provision 
for  the  security  of  the  future  happiness  of  our  children, 
our  next  desire  is  to  see  them  in  such  a  situation  as 
will  give  the  promise  of  its  permanence.  So  long  as 
they  remain  within  the  years  of  immaturity,  while  they 
are  unfixed  in  their  destiny,  or  unsettled  in  their  earth- 
ly relations,  however  ample  maybe  the  provision  for 
their  comfort,  there  is  still  connected  with  them  the 
deepest  solicitude.  Andif  ever  there  is  atime  whena. 
parent  should  be  willing  to  eay,  ''  Now^  Lord,  letteeti 
Thou  thv  servant  departin  peace,'4t  is  whenhebeholds 


108      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

his  childreiij  one  after  another,  choosing  the  path  of  up- 
rightness and  piety,  and  all  settled  down,  each  in  hig 
own  homestead,  and  all  together  walking  in  peaceful 
and  affectionate  harmony.  But  over  the  most  peace- 
ful establishment  of  sublunary  and  domestic  bliss,  how 
many  fitful  clouds  portentously  roll  on  the  thunder  ; 
and  with  what  ruthless  ferocity  have  we  seen  death 
enter  the  limits  of  such  a  happy  community,  and  con- 
vert it  into  one  wide  waste  of  deserted  ruin.  But  the 
infant  dead  !  is  their  happiness  not  permanent,  and  un- 
changeable, incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  such  as  can- 
not fade  away  ?  The  infant  dead  ! — are  they  not  set- 
tled for  eternity,  made  immortally  blessed,  and  far,  far, 
and  for  ever,  removed  from  all  the  sources  of  sorrow 
and  of  change  ?  Instead,  therefore,  of  indulging  in 
those  vain  regrets,  which  suit  those  only  who  never 
look  above  earth's  bounded  scene,  and  centre  all  their 
treasures  here,  let  us  cherish  feelings  of  resignation, 
thankfulness  and  hope. 

Let  me  not  mourn,  that  thou  wilt  be 

A  tenant  of  the  sky, — 
Escaped  from  life's  tumultuous  sea, 

And  frail  mortality. 
When  storms  arise,  and  tempests  blow, 
No  adverse  gale  thy  bark  shall  know. 

Let  me  rejoice,  to  think  that  thou 

Hast  early  joined  the  blest ; 
Before  thy  youthful  heart  could  know, 

Aught  to  disturb  its  rest, — 
Before  earth's  chilling  storms  had  given, 
A  blight  to  fruit  prepared  for  heaven, 

"  One  of  the  bitterest  pangs  too,  which  a  parent  can 
experience  when  about  to  die,  is  the  thought  that  he 
leaves  his  children  in  an  evil  and  dangerous  world,  un- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  109 

certain  what  will  be  their  conduct  and  destiny.    While 
with  the  utmost  confidence  he  can  leave  all  the  tem- 
poral allotments  of  his  fatherless  children  with  God,  he 
cannot  but  feel  some  sorrow  and  foreboding  at  heart,  in 
view  of  the  uncertainty  which  overhangs  their  future 
prospects  as  moral  beings,  who  are  to  act,  choose,  and 
decide  for  themselves.     That  uncertainty  he  escapes, 
who,  before  his  own  departure,  sees  his  children  secure- 
ly laid  in  their  best  home  and  refuge.     Once  he  might 
have  mourned,   and  said  of  him  who  he  had  hoped 
would  have  been  his  solace  and  joy,  '  How  is  the  strong 
staff  broken,  the  beautiful  rod  !'— But  now  as  he  thinks 
of  the  uncertain  conflict  to  which  he  would  have  been 
exposed,  with  the  temptations  and  dangers  of  a  wicked 
world,  he  is  grateful  that  the  blessed  Jesus  holds  the 
keys  of  life  and  death,  and  that,  hke  the  skilful  gar- 
dener, whose  experienced  eye  detects  the  approaching 
storm,  and  who  knows  when  to  hide  the  lily  in  its  nar- 
row bed.  He  knows  when  to  put  his  Uttle  ones  secure 
from  the  storm  and  tempest." 

Yes— if  I  have  not  sacrificed  all  other  claims  to  thine. 
Surrendered  with  a  selfish  love,  because  that  thou  wert  mine, 
I  still  may  hope  to  feel  that  bliss  within  my  soul  revive,^ 
Which  never  in  this  yearning  heart  will  languish  while  I 

May  hear  thy  unforgotten  voice  join  the  archangel's  song, 
And  know  my  own  beloved  one,  amidst  a  holy  throng, 
May  see  thee,  by  the  light  that  breaks  the  shadows  of  the 

tomb, 
A  portion  of  my  happiness  in  the  bright  worid  to  come  ! 

They  are  gone — never  to  return  ! — Where  we  now 
are,  they  can  never  more  be.  The  home  of  their  in- 
fancy they  will  never  re-visit.  Their  baby  couch  they 
will  never  again  press.  The  bosom  which  first  beat 
for  them,  with  the  wild  ecstacy  of  maternal  love,  they 

TO 


110  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

will  never,  oh  !  never  embrace.  The  sound  of  their 
happy  lullaby  we  shall  never  again  hear.  Nor  shall 
we  ever  again  reciprocate  a  parent's  nameless  joys. 
The  heavenly  sweetness  of  those  countenances  unfur- 
ix)wed  by  care  or  guilt,  we  shall  never  more  gaze  upon, 
nor  shall  we  listen,  in  wrapt  dehght,  to  the  infant  prat- 
tle, or  feel  the  throbbing  of  the  joyful  heart  as  we  hear 
from  their  infant  voices  the  loved  name  of  father,  or  of 
mother.  It  is  true,  my  bereaved  friend,  they  are  gone ; 
but  it  is  also  true  that  all  soHcitude  is  gone ; — and 
while  we  look  down  the  coming  future,  and  see  it  as 
dark  with  storms  as  the  troubled  past,  and  as  full  of 
fiery  trial  as  the  present,  we  feel  no  consciousness  of 
alarm  for  those  who  are  now  safely  housed  in  their 
home  in  the  skies,  "  To  grieve  us  even  for  our  profit 
is  not  the  sole  reason  why  they  are  consigned  to  an 
early  grave.  This  is  the  passage  by  which  even  they 
must  be  brought  into  the  presence  of  God,  and  this  is 
the  time  when  he  pleases  to  call  for  them.  How  ani- 
mating the  thought,  that  those  powers  which  were  but 
beginning  to  unfold  themselves,  are  now  expanding, 
and  employed  amid  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  para- 
dise. Whether  they  were  spared  for  a  season,  and  mul- 
tiplied attractions  and  endearments,  or  were  cut  off 
from  the  womb,  and  had  the  allotment  which  Job  so 
passionately  wished  had  been  his,  the  same  end  has 
been  answered.  Their  short-lived  existence  on  earth, 
may  appear  as  a  kind  of  blank,  but  God  does  nothing 
in  vain.  Their  life  below,  short  as  it  was,  has  served 
to  introduce  the  eternal  state,  as  well  as  the  life  of  the 
hoary  headed  patriarch.  At  the  same  time,  their  death 
by  its  effects  will  impress  a  character  on  the  eternity 
of  surviving  witnesses,  relatives,  and  friends.  Let  b^ 
reaved  parents  then  say,  *  It  is  well  with  the  child/ 
*  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth  good  in  hi^ 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  Ill* 

sight.'  He  who  wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  hath 
hallowed  the  tears  of  affection,  but  he  forbids  us  to 
sorrow,  as  if  there  were  no  hope.  While  you  weep  as 
nature  feels,  and  indeed  ought  to  feel,  for  otherwise 
the  providence  could  not  profit  you,  beware  of  nurs- 
ing melancholy,  and  cherishing  a  morbid  sensibiUty. 
May  not  the  child  say  to  you,  '  If  ye  loved  me,  ye 
would  rejoice,  because  I  have  got  home  to  my  father.' 
If  the  hope  of  going  to  the  Saviour  animates  your 
heart,  is  not  the  thought,  that  the  happy  spirit  will 
'  never  return  to  you,'  in  this  evil  world,  likewise 
fraught  with  consolation  ?  '  Staying  only  to  wash 
away  its  native  impurity  in  the  laver  of  regeneration, 
it  bade  a  speedy  adieu  to  time  and  terrestrial  things — 
just  looked  on  the  light,  and  then  withdrew  into  the 
more  inviting  regions  of  undisturbed  repose. — Happy 
voyager  !  no  sooner  launched,  than  arrived  at  the 
haven.'  No  one  acquainted  with  the  works  of  this 
evangehcal  writer  will  suppose  that  he  identifies  regen- 
eration with  an  external  rite.  He  obviously  refers  to 
that  change  of  heart  which  is  indispensably  necessary 
in  order  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
And  these  helpless  innocents — oh  !  how  do  they 
steal  upon  the  heart — how  insensibly  do  they  entwine 
themselves  around  us  ! — how  irresistibly  do  they  en- 
gross the  thoughts,  and  call  forth  pride  and  vanity,  and 
selfishness,  and  an  overfondness  of  inordinate  regard  ! 
Like  the  slender  creeping  vine,  do  they  attach  them- 
selves to  us — lean  helplessly  upon  us — drink  in,  fwm 
our  joy,  all  their  merriment — throw  around  us  their 
fragrance  and  beauty — but,  like  it,  do  they  oftentimes 
insidiously  cramp  the  growth  of  piety,  and  drink  up 
the  essential  aUment  of  godliness.  And  if  God  has 
transplanted  them  to  his  own  heavenly  vineyard,  and 
by  so  doing,  restored  our  souls  to  health  and  prosperity ; 


112  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

should  we  not  rejoice  in  that  tribulation  which  worketh 
out  for  us  such  peaceful  fruits  of  righteousness  ?  We 
may  lament  as  an  incurable  evil,  what  God  esteems  an 
invaluable  good.  Our  prayers  and  energies  may  be 
excited  to  agony  in  warding  off  a  storm  which  it  is  his 
purpose  shall  come  down  upon  us  in  all  its  fury.  We 
watch  at  the  couch  of  a  languishing  child :  our  life  is 
bound  up  in  his ;  if  it  die  it  seems  to  us  God  must  de- 
sign to  undo  us,  and  yet,  perhaps,  that  child  was  given 
us  that  it  might  die  in  our  arms  and  be  the  means  of 
our  sanctification.  Sixteen  years  after  such  an  afflic- 
tion, a  father  says,  "  I  have  found  the  loss  of  my  child, 
which  is  the  greatest  cross  I  ever  met  with,  hath  been 
blessed  to  the  good  of  my  soul."  As  a  good  woman  once 
said,  "  Bearing  my  children  and  my  crosses  has  cost  me 
dear,  but  I  would  not  be  without  either.  It  is  not  fit 
that  I  should  choose  my  affliction,  what  God  lays  on 
me  is  welcome,  and  I  will  esteem  Christ  no  worse  for 
his  cross ;  for  I  find  these  bitter  waters  most  medicinal, 
and  the  sweetest  fruit  grows  on  this  bitter  tree." 

Thou,  then,  pale  mourner  o'er  an  infant's  bier, 
Brighten  thy  cheek,  and  dry  the  trick' ling  tear ; 
This  came,  though  veiled  in  darkness  from  above, 
A  dispensation  of  eternal  love  ! 
He  who  perceived  the  dangerous  controul. 
The  heart-twined  spell  was  gaining  on  thy  soul, 
Snatch'd  from  thine  arms  the  treacherous  decoy 
To  give  thee  brighter  hope,  and  purer  joy. 

Should  we,  however,  have  been  enabled  to  preserve 
our  hearts  from  too  excessive  fondness  for  the  creature, 
have  we  guarded  them  as  faithfully  against  all  the 
other  seductions  of  this  spiritual  idolatry  7  Have  we 
given  our  hearts,  and  the  supremacy  of  our  thoughts, 
purposes  and  desires  to  the  business  of  fife,  to  the  many 
cares  of  the  household,  to  the  heaping  up  of  riches,  to 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  113 

the  enjoyment  of  pleasure,  or  to  any  other  creature — 
more  than  to  God,  to  rehgion  and  to  things  divine? 
And  if  it  was  thus  with  us,  were  we  not  closing  up  all 
intercourse  between  our  souls  and  God ;  shutting  out 
the  light  of  Heaven ;  obscuring  the  pathway  to  ever- 
lasting life ;  and  thus  fast  gathering  around  our  souls 
the  dark  shadoAV  of  despair.  Was  it  not,  then,  merci- 
ful in  that  God  we  were  thus  putting  far  from  us,  to 
visit  us  with  some  touching  bereavement,  and  thus 
waken  us  to  our  dangerous  position?  "A  mother  s 
employed  during  a  score  of  months,  in  rearing  to  in- 
telHgence  a  lovely  babe ;  but  at  the  juncture  when  it 
begins  to  reciprocate  her  smiles,  when  it  had  entirely 
entwined  her  heart,  had  become  an  essential  ingredient 
in  her  cup  of  blessings,  she  wakes  and  finds  herself 
embracing  a  lump  of  lifeless  clay.  All  distress  and 
darkness,  she  inquires,  Why  did  it  not  perish  in  the 
birth?  Why  could  it  not  have  died  when  I  loved  it 
less  ?  Why  must  it  live  till  a  mother  cannot  survive 
its  death?  And  yet  perhaps  this  very  event  is  the 
means  of  snatching  the  mother  from  perdition."* 

"  Why  do  the  loveliest  of  earth. 

The  soonest  pass  away — 
Like  radiant  flowers  of  summer  birth 

The  earliest  to  decay? 

•'  They  come  like  angel  forms  to  bless 

Our  visions  for  a  while, 
They  make  our  daily  burden  less-^ 

And  half  our  tears  beguile. 

"  They  grow  so  deeply  in  our  hearts, 

We  make  them  idols  there ; 
'Till  God  in  love  asunder  parts — 

The  ties  which  bind  them  here. 


Clark's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  304. 
in* 


114      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

"  'Tis  thus  He  3hides  us  that  we  love 

The  creatures  more  than  God  • 
To  fit  our  souls  for  rest  above — 

He  chastens  with  his  rod!" 

"  There  is  something  pleasing  in  this  fact :  that 
every  infant  that  you  lose  is  a  link  that  binds  you  to 
the  grave,  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  link  also  that  binds 
you  to  eternity  on  the  other.  A  portion  of  yourself 
has  taken  possession  of  the  tomb,  to  remind  you  that 
you  must  lie  down  there,  A  soul  that  was  related  to 
yourself  has  taken  possession  of  eternity,  to  remind 
you  that  you  must  enter  there.  Our  bodies  are, 
through  our  infants,  in  communion  with  the  dust ;  and 
our  spirits,  through  theirs,  with  the  everlasting  throne. 
We  are  so  disposed  to  strike  our  roots  into  this  fading 
and  fainting  earth,  that  it  becomes  mercy  on  the  part 
of  God  to  send  those  chastisements,  which  loosen  our 
affections  from  a  world  doomed  to  flame.  Each  infant 
that  we  lose  is  a  tie  (holy  and  happy  truth !)  less  to 
bind  us  to  this  w^orld,  and  a  tie  more  to  bind  our  hearts 
to  that  better  world  where  our  infants  have  preceded 
us.  It  is  thus  God  gradually  loosens  the  tree  before  it 
falls.  Death  thus  loses  half  its  pain  before  it  overtakes 
ns.  Happy  truth,  if  we  reahze  it !  Happy  lesson,  if 
we  feel  it !  Good  and  gracious  is  that  Father,  who  thus 
preaches  to  His  people  from  the  infant's  bier,  when 
they  will  not  learn  the  lesson  which  they  need  from  His 
ambassadors  in  the  pulpit !"  And  that  such  may  be 
the  result,  we  are  encouraged  to  hope  from  the  follow- 
ing fact. 

Several  years  ago,  said  the  Rev.  Mr.  G.,  I  was  called 
to  attend  the  funeral  of  a  child  five  years  of  age.  She 
had  sickened  and  died  suddenly.  The  father  I  knew 
not,  except  that  he  was  an  infidel.  This  child  had  at- 
tended my  Sabbath  school,  and  she  had  left  behind 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  116 

some  interesting  conversation  with  several  members  of 
the  church.  This,  after  the  child  had  died,  was  com- 
municated to  the  bereaved  mother  for  her  consolation. 
At  the  funeral  the  mother  appeared  more  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  subject  of  her  own  salvation  than  that  of 
the  loss  of  her  child.  The  next  Sabbath  this  family- 
were  at  my  meeting  and  requested  prayers  that  their 
affliction  might  be  sanctified.  They  continued  to  at- 
tend meeting,  Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  and  on  the  fifth 
Sabbath,  the  father  became  hopefully  pious.  Soon 
after  this  his  wife  became  pious,  and  then  a  sister,  and 
then  a  young  lady  residing  in  the  family ;  and  the  fa- 
ther, mother,  sister,  and  young  lady,  all,  on  the  same 
Sabbath,  made  a  public  profession  of  their  faith  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  That  father  is  now  a  pillar 
in  the  Church.  This  great  change  in  that  family  was 
produced  instru mentally  by  the  death  of  that  child  ! 

Who  will  say  this  dear  child  lived  and  died  in  vain  ? 
Will  not  many  an  aged  Chiistian  have  fewer  gems  to 
brighten  their  crowns  of  rejoicing,  than  will  this  babe 
in  Christ  ?  "  That  hfe  is  long  which  answers  life's 
great  end." 

We  are  too  ready,  notwithstanding  all  the  admoni- 
tions we  receive,  to  connect  prolonged  existence  with 
the  period  of  life  and  the  quantum  of  health  :  and  thus 
are  thousands  kept  in  a  trance-like  indifference  to  the 
urgent  calls  of  death  and  eternity.  And  surely  if  aught 
beside  the  dread  reahty  of  that  hour  of  doom,  and  that 
after  judgment  of  which  it  is  the  prelude,  can  break 
this  delusive,  this  soul-destroying  spell,  it  is  when  we 
behold  death  lay  the  grasp  of  his  icy  fingers  upon  some 
moving  form  of  youth  and  beauty,  and  in  the  very  ful- 
ness of  exuberant  and  ruddy  health,  consign  it  to  the 
tomb.  Here  surely,  Oh  man  !  you  cannot  but  be 
taught,  that  youth,  or  strength,  or  health,  are  np  bar- 


116  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVKl)     l'ARi:XTS. 

rier  to  the  approach  of  death,  and  that  in  this  warfare 
there  is  no  retreat  and  no  victory.  In  this  matter  all 
are  equal,  all  alike  mortal,  and  all  alike  destined  to 
death,  and  to  that  "judgment  which  is  after  death!" 
So  that  the  highest,  as  well  as  the  lowest,  the  richest,  as 
well  as  the  poorest,  must  bow  to  the  stroke  of  bereave- 
ment, of  affliction,  and  of  death.  How  forcibly  was 
this  truth  taught  in  the  case  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  : 

A  throne  on  earth  awaited  thee, 

A  nation  long'd  to  see  thy  face : 
Heir  to  a  glorious  ancestry, 

And  father  of  a  mightier  race. 

Vain  hope ! — that  throne  thou  must  not  fill ; 

Thee  shall  that  nation  ne'er  behold ; 
Thine  ancient  house  is  heirless  still ; 

Thy  line  will  never  be  unroll'd. 

Yet  while  we  mourn  thy  flight  from  earth, 

Thine  was  a  destiny  sublime : 
Caught  up  to  Paradise  in  birth — 

Snatch'd  by  Eternity  from  Time. 

The  mother  knew  her  ofl^spring  dead : 

Oh !  was  it  grief,  or  was  it  love 
That  broke  her  heart  ?     The  spirit  fled 

To  seek  her  nameless  child  above. 

Led  by  this  natal  star,  she  trod, 

His  path  to  Heav'n  ;  the  meeting  there, 

And  how  thej'-  stood  before  their  God, 
The  day  of  judgment  shall  declare. 

Again,  how  constantly  do  we  find  ourselves  associat- 
ing the  guilt  and  the  danger  of  sin  with  open  and  gross 
enormities,  to  the  entire  forgetfulness  of  the  truth,  that 
after  all  sin  lies  in  the  heart — that  this  is  its  fountain 
— and  that  from  its  enmity  to  God^  and  aversion  to  ho- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  117 

liness,  proceed  all  other  transgressions.  Oh,  what  a 
rebuke  does  God  give  to  this  delusion  of  Satan,  by 
which  thousands  are  ensnared  in  the  net  of  perdition, 
when  he  brings  death,  the  effect  of  sin,  and  the  demon- 
stration of  His  infinite  hatred  of  sin,  even  upon  infants  ! 
For  if  they,  who  have  not  sinned  personally,  are  made 
to  suffer  the  curse  of  a  violated  law,  how  shall  those 
escape  who,  to  all  the  guilt  of  original  corruption,  have 
added  all  the  blackness  of  their  own  voluntary  iniquity, 
and  their  own  perverse  rejection  of  mercy  ? 

How  willingly  too,  do  men  deceive  their  hearts  and 
sustain  themselves  in  a  course  of  sin,  by  interpreting 
that  goodness  and  long-sufferance  of  God  by  which  ke 
would  "  lead  them  to  repentance,"  into  an  indifference 
to  the  conduct  of  his  creatures.  Approach,  deluded  mor- 
tals, to  that  infant  bed  !  There  lies  an  innocent  and 
helpless  nursling  in  the  convulsive  throes  of  death.  Un- 
avaihng  to  its  relief  are  a  mother's  prayers,  or  a  phy- 
sician's help.  Bold  infidelity,  say  wherefore  is  it  so  ? 
Is  God  so  over-willing  to  repent  himof  his  threatenings, 
as  you  say  he  is  ?  Is  God  so  reckless  of  offences ;  is 
God  so  willing  to  pass  by  unatoned  transgression  as  you 
aver  he  is  ?  Wherefore,  then,  does  he  thus  inflict  even 
on  this  helpless  babe  the  awful  curse  pronounced  on 
man  thousands  of  years  ago  ?  Miserable  men  !  who 
remember  not  that  God  "  treasures  up  wrath  against 
the  day  of  wrath,  and  his  righteous  revelation  agamst 
every  son  of  man  who  doeth  evil ;  and  that  the  wicked 
shall  be  turned  into  hell  witli  all  who  forget  God." 

To  unbelieving  and  unconverted  parents,  therefore, 
the  death  of  their  infants  speaks  in  solemn  and  impres- 
sive tones.  Surely  such  parents  "  are  summoned  by  their 
best  feelings  to  the  cross.  Thougli  they  are  guilty  of 
violating  God's  law,  and  yet  more  in  refusing  God's 
gospel,  their  infants,  if  lost  during  the  period  of  infancy, 


118      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

are  not  suffering  the  consequences  of  their  parents'  guilt ; 
they  rest  from  their  tears,  they  are  snatched  from  the 
contagion  of  their  company.  Here  is  mercy  to  their 
souls  as  well  as  mercy  to  their  bodies.  Their  infants 
are  in  perennial  peace  ;  but  if  the  parents  die  unsaved, 
unsanctified,  untransformed,  unrenewed,  a  yawning 
chasm  must  separate  them  from  their  infants  for  ever 
and  ever.  Theirs  will  be  the  joy,  but  yours,  unconvert- 
ed reader,  must  be  the  sadness  ;  theirs  the  blessing,  but 
yours  for  ever  the  conscious  and  consuming  curse.  No 
interchange  of  love  shall  ever  cross  the  gulf  that  sev- 
ers you.  The  stroke  that  severs  you  in  time  severs 
you  in  eternity  also." 

Such  then  are  the  lessons  taught  by  this  dispensa- 
tion of  providence,  by  which  God  would  admonish,  and 
instruct  us,  and  by  which,  these  afflictions,  light  com- 
pared with  what  they  might  be,  and  with  what  we  de- 
serve, and  hght  contrasted  with  the  whole  duration  of 
our  being,  may  work  out  for  us  an  exceeding  and  eter- 
nal weight  of  glory.  And  when  we  duly  consider  the 
necessity  and  importance  of  these  truths  and  their 
bearing  upon  our  present  and  everlasting  interest ; — 
and  to  their  consideration  add  the  delightful  assurance 
that  it  is  well  with  our  departed  infants,  can  we  not 
confidently  and  triumphantly  say  that  they  are  thus 
early  removed  in  mercy  to  them,  and  in  kindness  to  us  ? 
Is  not  the  bitterness  of  their  death  thus  removed,  and 
its  sting  extracted  ?  Can  we  not  with  Job  say,  "  the 
Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord  ?"  Can  we  not  with  Aaron  ex- 
claim, "  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  as  seemeth  to  him 
good  ?"  Can  we  not  with  David  rejoicingly  declare, 
"They  cannot  come  to  us,  but  we  can  go  to  them?" 
Yes,  we  can  go  to  them.  "  They  are  not  lost,  but  gone 
before."     There  in  that  world  of  light,  and  love,  and 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      119 

joy,  they  await  our  coming.  There  do  they  beckon  us 
to  ascend.  There  do  they  stand  ready  to  welcome  us. 
There  may  we  meet  them,  when  a  few  more  suns  or 
seasons  shall  have  cast  their  departing  shadows  upon 
our  silent  grave.  Then  shall  our  joy  be  full  and  our 
sorrows  ended^  and  all  tears  wiped  from  our  eyes. 

Oh  !  when  a  mother  meets  on  high, 
The  child  she  lost  in  infancy  ; 
Hath  she  not  then  for  pains  and  fears, 
The  day  of  woe,  the  watchful  night, 
For  all  her  sorrows,  all  her  tears. 
An  over  payment  of  delight  ? 

Death  separates,  but  it  can  never  disunite  those  who 
are  bound  together  in  Christ  Jesus.  To  them,  death 
in  this  power  of  an  endless  separation,  is  abolished.  It 
is  no  more  death,  but  a  sweet  departure,  a  journey  from 
Earth  to  Heaven.  Our  children  are  still  ours.  We  are 
still  their  parents.  We  are  yet  one  family — one  in 
memory — one  in  hope — one  in  spirit.  Our  children  are 
yet  with  us,  and  dwell  with  us  in  our  sweetest,  fondest 
recollections.  We  too,  are  yet  with  them,  in  the  bright 
anticipations  of  our  reunion  with  them,  in  the  glories 
of  the  upper  sanctuary.  We  mingle  together  indeed 
no  more  in  sorrow  and  in  pain. 

But  we  shall  join  love's  buried  ones  again 
In  endless  bands,  and  in  eternal  peace. 

Blessed  and  glorious  hope,  and  blessed  and  glorious 
gospel  by  which  it  is  inspired  I  I  have  gloried  in  thee, 
but  never  as  I  do  now.  I  have  found  thee  precious, 
but  never  as  precious  as  now.  I  have  hoped  in  thy 
word,  and  stayed  myself  on  thy  promises,  and  exulted 
in  thy  immortal  hopes,  but  never  aught  as  now. 
When  I  stood  a  fond  parent,  surrounded  by  my  little 
ones,  growing  up  in  their  «weet  loveliness  around  me, 


120  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

my  future  delight,  my  future  helpmates  and  compan- 
ions, I  rejoiced  in  the  sunshine  which  this  heavenly 
gospel  threw  around  me.  But  when  I  stood  bereft  of 
these  loved  ones — when  I  saw  them  cold  in  the  speech- 
lessness of  death — when  I  put  them  both  together  in 
their  clayey  bed,  there  to  sleep  the  sleep  of  death — 
when  my  heart  shuddered  to  think  that  there  they 
Avould  lie  exposed  to  winter's  storms  and  the  summer's 
torrid  heat — then  did  thy  cheerful  promise,  span  as 
with  a  bow  of  hope  my  dreary  darkness,  sustain  my 
sinking  heart,  and  enable  me,  even  with  death,  and  its 
liorrid  desolations  before  me,  triumphantly  to  exclaim 
"  Oh  death  where  is  thy  sting,  oh  grave  where  is  thy 
victory  !  thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  me  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ !"  And  here  let  me 
commend,  especially  to  bereaved  parents,  this  "  balm 
for  wounded  spirits."  Clasp  it,  sorrowing  mourner,  t3 
your  bosom.  Receive  it  into  your  inmost  heart. 
Treasure  it  as  your  pearl  of  greatest  price.  Seek  it  as 
your  first  and  greatest  object  of  pursuit.  Buy  it  at 
whatever  cost.  Sell  it — no,  not  for  worlds.  Heaven  is 
not  only  our  home,  our  rest,  our  heaven— it  is  now  the 
home  of  our  children — it  is  our  common  inheritance. 
Let  it  then  be  the  prize  of  our  liigh  calling.  Towards 
it  let  us  press.  To  it  let  us  continually  ascend.  For 
it  let  us  diligently  prepare,  that  when  our  earthly  house 
of  this  tabernacle  is  taken  down,  we  may  have  a  build- 
ing of  God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  Heavens. 

For  oil!   that  star  of  mora  still  beams 

With  light  to  direct  my  feet, 
There  ,when  I  have  done  with  my  earthly  dreams. 

The  parent  and  child  may  meet. 

"It  may  be,"  as  Cotton  Mather  observes,  ^' your  af- 
fliction is  the  loss  of  children.     Well,  have  you  not 


SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS.  121 

read  such  a  message  sent  to  a  godly  man,  as  that  in 
1  Sam.  ii.  33.  '  The  son  of  thine  whom  I  shall  not  cut 
off,  shall  be  to  consume  thine  eyes,  and  to  grieve  thine 
heart.'  It  is  possible  that,  if  thy  child  had  lived,  it 
might  have  made  thee  the  father  of  a  fool,  or  (that  I 
may  speak  to  the  sex  that  is  most  unable  to  bear  this 
trial)  the  mother  of  a  shame.  It  is  a  very  ordinary 
thing  for  one  living  child  to  occasion  more  trouble  than 
ten  dead  ones.  However,  your  spiritual  interests  may  be 
exceedingly  injured  by  the  temporal  delights  which  you 
desire  ;  you  may  rue  what  you  wish,  because  it  may 
be  an  idol,  which  will  render  your  souls  like  the  '  bar- 
ren heath  in  the  wilderness  before  the  Lord.'  It  was 
the  very  direful  calamity  of  the  ancient  Israelites,  in 
Psalm  cvi.  15.  '  The  Lord  gave  them  their  request, 
but  sent  leanness  into  their  souls.'  A  lean  soul,  a 
wretched  soul,  a  soul  pining  away  in  its  iniquities,  is 
oftentimes  the  effect  of  those  fine  things  which  we  dote 
upon.  It  is  a  blasted  soul  that  sets  up  a  creature  in 
the  room,  on  the  throne  of  the  great  God,  that  gives 
unto  a  creature  those  affections  and  cares  which  are 
due  unto  the  great  God  alone.  Such  idolatry  the  soul 
is  tQO  frequently  by  prosperity  seduced  into.  We  are 
told,  in  Prov.  i.  32.  '  The  prosperity  of  fools  destroys 
them  ;'  many  a  fool  is  thus  destroyed.  O  fearful  case  ! 
A  full  table  and  a  lean  soul !  A  high  title  and  a  lean 
soul !  A  numerous  posterity  and  a  soul  even  like  the 
kine  in  Pharaoh's  dream  !  Madness  is  in  our  hearts  if 
we  tremble  not  at  this ;  soul  calamities  are  sore  calam- 
ities." 

"  Let  not  then  the  death  of  your  children  cause  any 
inconsolable  grief  The  loss  of  children  did  I  say — 
nay,  let  me  recal  so  harsh  a  word.  The  children  we 
count  lost,  are  not  so.     The  death  of  our  children  is 

11 


122  SOLACE    P^OR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

not  the  loss  of  ouu  children.     They  are  not  lost,  but 
given  back  ;  they  are  not  lost,  but  sent  before. 

"  Well,  this  is  the  calamity  which  many  of  you  at 
some  time  or  other  have  experienced ;   the  death  of 
children  is  a  thing  in  which  the  children   of  Jacob  sel- 
dom escape  a  resemblance  of  their  father.    Many  carry 
themselves  under  the  trial,  as  if  a  death  of  virtue,  yea, 
as  if  a  death  of  reason  had  befallen  them  ;  but  recol- 
lect yourselves,  O  dejected  Christians,  and  be  not  like 
them  that  mourn  without  hope  this  day.     Let  bereav- 
ed parents  be  still  believing  parents  ;  the  voice  of  the 
great  God  that  formed  all  things  is  unto  them,  as  in 
Jer.  xiii.    16.    '  Refrain  thy  voice  from   weeping,  and 
thine  eyes  from  tears,  for  thy  work  shall  be  rewarded, 
saith  the  Lord.'     Let  the  thoughts  which  have  been 
set  before  us  compose  and  settle  our  minds  under  this 
affliction.     Let  us  not  say,  this  thing  is  against  us ; 
but  let  us  say,  '  the  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord   hath 
taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."     It  is 
indeed  very  true,  that  this  alliiclion  is  none  of  the  most 
easy  to  be  borne ;  the  heart  of  a  parent  will  have  pe- 
culiar passions  working  in  it,  at  such  a  time  as  this, 
though  there  be  greater  sorrows  than  those  with  which 
we  follow  a  child  unto  the  grave ;  i  bless  God  it  is  a 
more  bitter  thing  to  say,  my  sin  is  mighty  ;  or  to  say, 
my  soul  is  guilty,  than  it  is  to  say.  my  child  is  dead  ; 
that  moan,  '  I  have  pierced  my  Saviour,'  is  more  heart- 
wounding,  than  to  mourn  as  one  mourneth  for  a  first- 
born.    Yet  few  outward,  earthly  anguishes  are  equal 
unto  these.     The  dying  of  a  child  is  Hke  the  tearing 
of  a  hmb  from  us.     But  O  remember,  that  if  ever  we 
had  any  grace  in  our  souls,  we  have  ere  this  willingly 
plucked  out  a  right  eye,  and  cut  olT  a  right  hand,  for 
the  sake  of  God.     Why  should  we  not  then,  at  the 
call  of  God,  readily  part  with  a  limb,  and  leave  him 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  123 

room  to  say,  '  Now  I  know  that  thou  feaiest  me,  be- 
cause thou  hast  not  withheld  thy  son,  thine  only  son, 
from  Me.'  It  was  from  God  that  we  received  those 
dear  pledges,  our  children,  and  it  is  to  God  that  we  re- 
turn them.  We  cannot  quarrel  with  our  God,  if  about 
those  loans  he  say  unto  us.  Give  them  up ;  you  have 
had  them  long  enough  1  We  knew  what  they  were 
when  first  we  took  them  into  our  arms  ;  we  knew  that 
they  were  potsherds,  that  tliey  were  mortals,  that  the 
worms  which  sometimes  kill  them,  or  at  least  will  eat 
them,  are  but  their  name-sakes ;  and  that  a  dead  child 
is  a  sight  no  more  surprising  than  a  l^roken  pitcher  or 
a  blasted  flower. 

"  But  we  did  not,  we  do  not  know,  what  they  might 
be,  in  case  they  were  continued  among  the  living  on 
the  earth.  We  cannot  tell  whether  our  sons  would 
prove  as  plants  grown  up  in  their  youth,  and  our 
daughters  as  corner  stones  polished  after  the  similitude 
of  a  palace  ;  or,  whether  our  sons  might  not,  like  Isaac's 
son,  do  those  things  that  would  be  '  a  grief  of  mind 
unto  us,'  and  our  daughters,  like  Jephtha's  daughter,  be 
of  them  that  trouble  us.  Christians,  let  us  be  content 
that  our  wise  and  good  God  should  choose  our  portion 
for  us ;  he  will  appoint  us  none  but  a  goodly  heritage. 
Our  temptation  is  no  more  than  what  is  common  to 
men,  yea,  and  to  good  men.  The  greatest  part  of  those 
human  spirits,  that  are  now  beholding  the  face  of  God 
in  glory,  are  such  as  dv/elt  in  the  children  of  pious  peo- 
ple, departed  in  their  infancy.  And  what  have  we  to 
say,  why  we  should  not  undergo  it  as  well  as  they. 
Was  the  infant  whose  decease  we  deplore,  one  that  was 
very  pretty,  one  that  had  pretty  features,  pretty  speech- 
es, pretty  actions  ?  Well,  at  the  resurrection  of  the  just 
we  shall  see  it  again ;  the  Lord  Jesus  will  deal  with  our 
dead  children  as  the  prophets  Elijah  and  Elisha  did  by 


124      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

those  wliom  they  raised  of  old  ;  he  will  bring  them  to 
us,  recovered  from  the  pale  jaws  of  death ;  and  how 
amiable,  how  beautiful,  how  comely  they  will  then  be, 
no  tongue  is  able  to  express,  or  heart  to  conceive  ! 
Though  their  beauty  consume  in  the  grave,  yet  it  shall 
be  restored,  it  shall  be  increased,  when  they  shall  put 
off  their  bed-clothes  in  the  morning  of  the  day  of  God. 

"  Again  ;  was  the  infant  now  lamented,  very  sudden- 
ly snatched  away,  and  perhaps  awfully  too  !  not  merely 
by  a  convulsion,  but  by  scalding,  by  burning,  by  drown- 
ing, by  shooting,  by  stabbing,  or  by  some  unusual  harm  ? 
Truly  it  is  often  so,  that  the  quicker  the  death  the  bet- 
ter. It  is  more  desirable  for  our  children  to  feel  but  a 
few  minutes  of  pain,  than  it  is  for  them  to  lie  groaning 
in  those  exquisite  agonies  which  would  cause  us  even 
ourselves  to  wish  that  the  Lord  would  take  them  out 
of  their  misery.  As  for  any  more  grievous  and  signal 
circumstance  attending  our  dying  children,  our  best 
course  will  be  to  have  it  said  of  us,  '  they  ceased  ;  say- 
ing. The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done  !'  As  the  love  oi 
wrath  of  God  is  not  certainly  declared  in,  so  our  grief 
before  him  should  not  be  too  much  augmented  by, 
such  things  as  these.  And  it  is  a  favour,  if  so  much 
as  one  of  our  children  be  left  alive  unto  us.  Let  not 
the  sense  of  one  trouble  swallow  up  the  sense  of  a 
thousand  mercies.  Tlie  mother  from  whom  a  violent 
death  has  taken  one  of  her  two  children,  may  immedi- 
ately embrace  the  other  and  say,  '  Blessed  be  God  who 
has  left  me  this.' 

"  But  once  more  ;  is  the  deceased  infant  an  only  child  ? 
Are  we  now  ready  to  sigh — All  is  gone  !  Nay,  thou 
hast  but  a  poor  all,  if  this  were  all.  I  hope  thy  only 
child  is  not  thy  only  joy.  If  thou  hast  ever  experienced 
the  new  birth,  the  sense  of  thy  soul  is,  one  Jesus  is 
worth   ten   children ;    yea,    one    Christ   is  worth    ten 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      125 

worlds.  What  though  all  thy  candles  are  put  out! 
The  sun,  the  sun  of  righteousness  is  arising  to  thy 
soul  for  ever.  An  undone  man  art  thou  indeed  ! 
thou  hast  thy  little  glass  of  water  spilt  or  spoilt,  while 
thou  hast  a  fountain,  a  living  fountain  running  by  thy 
door  !  The  blessed  God  calls  thee,  ray  child ;  and  that 
is  infinitely  better  than  a  name  of  sons  and  of  daugh- 
ters. 

"  Finally.  Have  we  any  doubts  about  the  eternal 
salvation  of  the  children  which  we  have  buried  out 
of  our  sight?  Indeed  as  to  grown  children, 
there  is  often  too  sad  cause  of  suspicion  or  sohcitude ; 
and  yet  here,  the  sovereign  disposals  of  God  must  be 
submitted  to.  Besides,  though  it  may  be  we  could  not 
see  such  plain  marks  and  signs  of  grace  in  our  adult 
children  as  we  could  have  wished  for,  nevertheless  they 
might  have  the  root  of  the  matter  in  them.  There 
are  many  serious,  gracious,  well-inclined  young  people, 
who  conceal  from  every  body  the  evidences  of  their 
repentance,  and  the  instances  of  their  devotion.  You 
cannot  tell  what  the  Lord  did  for  the  souls  of  your  poor 
children  before  he  took  them  out  of  the  world.  Per- 
haps they  sought,  they  found  mercy  at  the  last.  The 
child  of  a  good  parent  is  not  to  be  despaired  of,  though 
turned  off  the  gallows. 

«  But  as  to  young  children,  the  fear  of  God  will  take 
away  all  matter  of  scruple  in  the  owners  of  them. 
Parents,  can  you  not  sincerely  say,  that  you  have 
chosen  God  in  Christ  for  the  best  portion,  as  of  your- 
selves, so  of  your  children?  Answer  this:  if  your 
children  had  been  spared  unto  you,  would  it  not  have 
been  your  care  to  have  them  brought  up  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord  ?  Would  you  not  have 
used  all  prayers  and  pains  to  have  them  engaged  unto 
the  service  of  the  living  God,  and  unto  a  just  aversion 

ir 


126  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

to  all  the  vile  idols  and  vain  courses  of  the  world  ?  Then 
be  of  good  cheer :  your  children  are  in  a  better  place,  a  bet- 
ter state,  than  you  yourselves  are  yet  arrived  unto.  The 
faithful  God  hath  promised,  I  will  be  their  God,  as  well 
as  thy  God.  O  say,  This  is  all  my  desire,  though  the 
Lord  suffer  not  my  house  to  grow.  Those  dear  chil- 
dren are  gone  from  your  kind  arms,  into  the  kinder 
arms  of  Jesus,  and  this  is  by  far  the  best  of  all  to  have 
children  this  day  in  heaven.  Truly  this  is  an  honour 
which  neither  you  nor  I  are  worthy  of.  But  so  it  is : 
the  King  of  kings  hath  sent  for  our  children  to  confer 
a  kingdom  on  them.  They  are  gone  from  a  dark  vale 
of  sin  and  shame ;  they  are  gone  into  the  land  of 
light,  and  life,  and  love ;  there  they  are  with  the  spir- 
its of  just  men  made  perfect;  there  they  serve  the 
Lord  day  and  night  in  his  temple,  having  all  tears 
wiped  from  their  eyes ;  and  from  thence  methinks  I 
hear  them  crying  aloud  unto  us,  '  As  well  as  you  love 
us  we  would  not  be  with  you  again  :  weep  not  for  us, 
but  for  yourselves,  and  count  not  yourselves  at  home 
till  you  come  to  be,  as  we  are,  for  ever  with  the  Lord.' 

"  I  have  done.  The  fit  epitaph  of  a  dead  infant 
(that,  that  alone  is  enough  to  be  the  solace  of  a  sad 
parent),  is,  '  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  "* 

To  you  who  are  still  the  parents  of  living  children, 
or  who  may  be  such,  let  me  say,  Take  heed  and  be- 
ware of  regarding  as  your  own,  what  is  entrusted  to 
you  hy  the  liord,  and /or  the  Lord.  Look  upon  your 
children  as  immortals — as  passing,  you  know  not  how 
rapidly — to  the  world  beyond.  While  provident  of 
their  present  wants  and  temporal  comforts,  make  their 
heavenly  welfare  your  chief  concern.  Let  your  laia- 
guage  be  that  of  the  poet. 

•  Right  Thoughts  in  Sad  Hours. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  127 

Dear  cherished  babes,  if  you  should  have 

To  travel  far  alone, 
And  weep  by  turns  at  many  a  grave 

Before  you  reach  your  own  ; 
May  he  who  bade  you  weep,  be  nigh 

To  wipe  away  your  tears, 
And  point  you  to  a  world  on  high. 

Beyond  these  mournful  years. 
Yet  if  it  be  his  holy  will, 

I  pray,  that  hand  in  hand, 
We  all  may  travel  many  a  hill 

Of  this  the  pilgdm  land. 
With  Zion's  shining  gate  in  view 

Through  every  danger  rise. 
And  form  a  family  anew 

Unbroken  in  the  skies. 

Again,  w^ouid  I  remind  you  of  the  uncertain  tenor  by 
which  you  hold  you  children,  friends,  and  all  earthly 
blessings.  The  days  of  darkness  will  come  upon  you. 
Through  much  tribulation  you  must  enter  the  king- 
dom of  God.  As  a  general,  when  he  is  suddenly  over- 
taken by  an  overpowering  enemy,  or  by  the  inclement 
frosts  of  winter,  falls  back  into  some  well  garrisoned  and 
impregnable  fortress,  until  the  enemy  has  gone  and  his 
strength  has  increased— so,  let  me  advise  you,  to  have 
these  hopes  and  comforts  of  the  gospel  understanding- 
ly  and  thoroughly  fixed  in  your  memory ;  and  con- 
stantly preserved  in  your  frequent  meditation;  that 
when  met  by  some  sudden  and  overw^ helming  visita- 
tion, you  may  not  find  yourself  exposed,  shelterless 
and  alone,  to  the  pitiless  peltings  of  the  storm,  but  may 
at  once  take  refuge  under  this  safe  covert  until  the 
tempest  be  overpast.  And  may  God  in  infinite  mercy 
fit  and  prepare  us  all  for  the  issues  and  events  of  life, 
for  the  hour  of  death  and  the  day  of  judgment. 


128  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTJa 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

In  heart  divided,  and  in  spirit  rent, 

Who  could  forbid  a  mother  to  lament? 

Death !  thou  dread  looser  of  the  dearest  tie, 

Was  there  no  aged  and  no  sick  one  nigh  ? 

No  languid  wretch  who  long'd,  but  long'd  in  vain 

For  thy  cold  hand  to  cool  his  fiery  pain  1 

And  was  the  only  victim  thou  couldst  find. 

An  infant  on  its  mother's  arms  reclin'd  ? 

But  'tis  thy  way  to  pass  the  ripest  by, 

And  cause  the  flowers  and  buds  of  life  to  die ; 

Full  many  a  flow'r  is  scatter'd  by  the  breeze, 

And  many  a  blossom  shaken  from  the  trees, 

And  many  a  morning  beam  in  tempest  flies, 

And  many  a  dew-drop  shines  awhile  and  dies : 

But  oftener  far,  the  dreams  that  fancy  weaves, 

Of  future  joy  and  happiness,  deceives. 

And  thou  pale  mourner,  o'er  an  infant's  bier, 

Brighten  thy  cheek,  and  dry  the  trickling  tear ; 

This  came,  though  veil'd  in  darkness,  from  above^ 

A  dispensation  of  eternal  love  ! 

He  who  perceiv'd  the  dangerous  controul. 

The  heart-twin'd  spell  was  gaining  on  thy  soul, 

Snatch'd  from  thine  arms  the  treacherous  decoy, 

To  give  thee  brighter  hope  and  purer  joy. 

Oh  !  see  how  soon  the  flow'rs  of  life  decay, 

How  soon  terrestrial  pleasures  fade  away. 

This  star  of  comfort,  for  a  moment  giv'n. 

Just  rose  on  earth,  then  set  to  rise  in  heav'i 

Yet  mourn  not,  as  of  hope  bereft,  its  doom. 

Nor  water  with  thy  tears  its  early  tomb ; 

Redeem'd  by  God  from  sin,  releas'd  from  pain, 

Its  life  were  punishment,  its  death  were  gain. 

Turn  back  thine  eye  along  the  path  of  life, 

View  thine  own  grief,  and  weariness  and  strife : 

And  say,  if  that  which  tempts  thee  to  repine, 

Be  not  a  happier  lot  by  far  than  thine. 

If  death  in  infancy  had  laid  thee  low. 

Thou  hadst  escap'd  from  pain^  and  sin,  and  woe ; 

The  years  thy  soul  the  path  of  sorrow  trod. 

Had  all  been  spent  in  converse  with  thy  God ; 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      129 

And  thou  hadst  shone  in  yonder  cloudless  sphere, 

A  seraph  there,  and  not  a  pilgrim  here. 

O !  it  is  sweet  to  die, — to  part  from  earth,— 

And  win  all  heav'n  for  things  of  little  worth ; 

Then  sure  thou  wouldst  not,  though  thou  couldst  awake 

The  little  slumberer,  for  its  mother's  sake. 

It  is  when  those  we  love,  in  death  depart, 

That  earth  has  slightest  hold  upon  the  heart. 

Hath  not  bereavement  higher  wishes  taught, 

And  purified  from  earth,  thine  earth-born  thought? 

I  know  it  hath.     Hope  then  appears  more  dear, 

And  heaven's  bright  realms  shine  brightest  through  a  tear. 

Though  it  be  hard  to  bid  thy  heart  divide, 

And  lay  the  gem  of  all  thy  love  aside — 

Faith  tells  thee,  and  it  tells  thee  not  in  vain, 

That  thou  shalt  meet  thine  infant  yet  again. 

On  seraph  wings,  the  new-born  spirit  flies. 

To  brighter  regions  and  serener  skies ; 

And,  ere  thou  art  aware,  the  day  may  be 

When  to  those  skies  thy  babe  shall  welcome  thee. 

While  yet  on  earth,  thine  ever-circling  arms 

Held  it  securest  from  surrounding  harms ; 

Yet  even  there,  disease  could  aim  her  dart. 

Chill  the  warm  cheek,  and  stop  the  fluttering  heart. 

And  many  a  fruitless  tear-drop  thou  hast  paid, 

To  view  the  sickness  that  thou  couldst  not  aid. 

No  ill  can  reach  it  now,  it  rests  above. 

Safe  in  the  bosom  of  celestial  love : 

Its  short  but  yet  tempestuous  way  is  o'er. 

And  tears  shall  trickle  down  its  cheek  no  more. 

Then  far  be  grief !     Faith  looks  beyond  the  tomb, 

And  heav'n's  bright  portals  sparkle  through  the  gloom. 

If  bitter  thoughts  and  tears  in  heav'n  could  be, 

It  is  thine  infant  that  should  weep  for  thee. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OP  MY  SON. 


My  little  one,  my  fair  one,  are  then  thy  troubles  o'er  ? 
And  has  thy  slight  and  feeble  bark  arrived  at  Canaan's 
shore  ? 


^0  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Hast  thou  at  length  a  haven  reached,  where  thou  can  anchor 

fast? 
And  heed  no  more  the  pehing  storm,  the   billow    or  the 

blast? 

My  little  one,  my  fair  one,  though  brief  thy  course  has 

been, 
Few  days  of  sunshine  cheered  thee  on,  few  smiling  coasts 

were  seen ; 
It  seemed  as  o'er  thy  shallop  frail  the  raven  flapped  his 

wing,  _  _  ^        -  _ 

And  scared  the  bright  and  halcyon  tribes,  which  might  thine 

advent  sing. 

My  littler-one,  my  fair  one,  thy  couch  is  empty  now. 
Where  oft  I  wiped  the  dews  away,  which  gathered  on  thy 

brow ; 
No  more  amidst  the  sleepless  night  I  smooth  thy  pillow  fair, 
Tis  smooth  indeed,  but  rest  no  more  thy  small  pale  features 

there. 

My  little  one,  my  fair  one,  thy  tiny  carriage  waits. 

But  waits  in  vain  to  bear  thy  form  through  yon  inviting 

gates ; 
Where  bloom   the  flowers  as  erst   they  did,  when    thou 

couldst  cull  their  sweets. 
But  roams  in  vain  thy  father's  eye,  no  answering  glance  it 

meets. 

My  little  one,  my  fair  one,  thy  lips  were  early  trained 

To  lisp  that  gracious  Saviour's  name,   who   ail  thy  guilt 

sustained  : 
Nor  would  I  weep  because  my  Lord  has  snatched  my  gourd 

away, 
To  blossom  bright,  and  ripen  fair,  in  realms  of  endless  day. 

My  little  one,  my  fair  one,  thou  canst  not  come  to  me, 

But  nearer  draws  the  numbered  hour,  when  I  shall  go  to 

thee. 
And  thou,  perchance,  with  seraph  smile,  and  golden  harp 

in  hand, 
May' St  come  the  first  to  welcome  me,  to  our  Emmanuel's 

land! 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  131 

A  FATHER'S  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  BIRTH  OF  A  SON. 

PRESIDENT   DAVIES. 

Now  thou  art  born  into  an  anxious  state 

Of  dubious  trial  for  thy  future  fate  ; 

Now  thou  art  listed  in  the  war  of  life, 

The  prize  immense;  and,  oh!  severe  the  strife: 

Another  birth  awaits  thee,  when  the  hour 

Arrives,  that  lands  thee  on  the  immortal  shore, 

(And  oh  !  'tis  near,  with  winged  haste  'twill  come, 

Thy  cradle  rocks  towards  the  neighbouring  tomb), 

Then  shall  the  immortals  shout,  "  A  son  is  born," 

Whilst  thcG,  as  dead,  mistaken  mortals  mourn. 

From  glory  then,  to  glory  thou  shalt  rise, 

Or  sink  from  deep,  to  deeper  miseries ; 

Ascend  perfection's  everlasting  scale, 

Or  still  descend  from  gulph  to  gulph  in  hell. 

Thou  embryo  angel,  or  thou  infant  fiend! 

A  being  now  begun,  but  ne'er  to  end, 

What  boding  fears  a  father's  heart  torment. 

Trembling  and  anxious  for  the  grand  event. 

Lest  the  young  soul  so  late  by  heaven  bestowed, 

Forget  his  father,  and  forget  his  God  ; 

Lest  while  imprisoned  in  this  house  of  clay. 

To  tyrant  lusts  he  falls  a  helpless  prey ; 

And,  lest  descending  still  from  bad  to  worse. 

His  immortality  should  prove  his  curse. 

Maker  of  souls '  avert  so  dire  a  doom, 

Oi'  snatch  him  back  to  native  nothing's  gloom< 


CHAPTER  VI. 


SELECTIONS   IN    PROSE,    CONFIRMATORY    AND    ILLUSTRATIVE     OF 
THE    PRECEDING    VIEWS. 


The  heart  that  has  not  known  the  hour 

When  Grief  could  bid  it  bow, 
Or  seen  that  looks  and  words  have  power 

To  cloud  the  brightest  brow, 
'Twere  vain  to  torture  with  a  song 

So  sorrowful  as  mine  ; 
Leave  such  to  pant  amid  the  throng 

That  crowd  life's  gilded  shrine. 

But  ye  who  suffer — who  have  felt 

The  destiny  of  earth, 
That  Death  with  shadowy  hand  hath  dealt 

Rebuke  amid  your  mirth  ; 
To  you  this  tribute  of  a  word, 

When  other  sounds  have  fled, 
Will  come  like  loved  tones  faintly  heard  : — 

The  Memory  of  the  Dead. 


STATE  OF  INFANTS  IN  HEAVEN.* 

My  Dear  Friend, — You  desired  some  thoughts 
upon  the  existence  and  employments  of  the  spirit  of  an 
infant  in  the  heavenly  world  ;  and  although  there  is 
not  much  said  in  Scripture  upon  the  subject,  yet,  doubt- 
less, many  a  pious  mother,  whilst  shedding  the  tear  of 
parental  affection  over  her  departed  little  one,  has  been 
anxious  to  trace  that  spirit  into  the  regions  of  everlast- 
ing happiness  and  glory.  That  there  are  different  de- 
grees of  glory  it  cannot  be  questioned,  if  you  look  at 
several  passages  of  Scripture,  such  as  the  following : — 

*  From  the  Evangelical  Magazine. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      133 

Rev.  xxi.  10 — 17  ;  James  v.  10 ;  Daniel  xii.  3  ;  Matt, 
xiii.  43  ;  1  Cor.  xv.  41  ;  Rev.  vii.  13—17. 

From  these  passages,  we  may  gain  the  assurance 
that  this  is  the  case,  and  that  will  be  sufficient  to  allay 
every  fear  of  the  doubting  mind. 

"  I  saw  a  little  baby  breathe  its  last." 

One  evening,  I  had  just  sat  down  to  read,  when  some 

person  knocked  at  the  door,  and  Mr. entered  to 

inform  me  his  baby,  to  all  appearance,  was  near  death. 
Immediately  I  went  down  stairs,  and  soon  perceived  the 
interesting  little  object  could  not  exist  many  hours.  At 
such  a  time,  how  affecting  was  the  scene  !  Parents, 
servants,  and  friends  waiting  to  see  the  change.  Their 
thoughts  seemed  called  away  from  every  thing  earthly. 
The  parents  were  wrapt  up  in  the  thought,  "  We  shall  see 
our  child  no  more."  I  marked  the  sovereignty  of  God. 
He  does  according  to  his  will,  independently  and  irre- 
sistibly, without  giving  an  account  of  his  matters  any 
further  than  he  pleases.  He  does  nothing  without  the 
best  reasons,  whether  those  reasons  be  disclosed  to  his 
creatures  or  not.  All  his  pleasure,  all  his  determina- 
tions are  perfectly  wise  and  good,  founded  on  the  best 
of  all  reasons,  and  directed  to  the  best  purposes.  It  was 
very  affecting  to  see  the  approach  of  death  in  one  so 
young.  Her  struggles  were  soon  ovei'.  I  watched  un- 
til I  fancied  I  saw  the  soul  depart,  but  it  was  a  spirit. 
'Twas  not  flesh.  It  escaped  from  the  body,  and  was  in 
a  moment  translated  and  introduced  to  a  world  of  spirits. 
How  amazing  the  change  !  how  incomprehensible  !  It 
was  made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,  now  crowned 
with  glory  and  honour.  It  was  a  wonderful  change, 
if  we  only  contemplate  its  introduction  to  angels.  At 
the  moment  that  soul  entered  their  presence,  its  facul« 

12 


134     SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

ties  were  enlarged,  its  knowledge  increased,  its  mind 
expanded  to  a  wonderful  degree.  It  lives  in  ever-bloom- 
ing youth,  highly-favoured,  exalted  and  happy,  destined 
to  survive  and  triumph  when  this  universe  will  be  de- 
stroyed. It  will  exist  for  ever  and  ever.  That  little 
being  which,  while  in  this  world,  was  incapable  of  em- 
ploying itself,  is  now,  in  its  character,  complete.  It  is 
possessed  of  attributes  divine  :  all  these  are  angelic  and 
heavenly.  Its  employments  are  numerous,  and  all  be- 
coming its  station.  The  world  could  not  furnish  ma- 
terials for  the  composition  of  such  an  angelic  character. 
It  is  perfectly  free  from  fault,  impurity,  and  defect.  It 
has  escaped  all  the  troubles  of  life,  and  will  never  meet 
with  any  thing  that  will  prove  an  alloy.  Its  pleasures 
are  unfading,  and  every  tear  is  wiped  away.  But  how 
astonishing  that  this  httle  being  should  be  introduced 
into  the  presence  of  God  !  that  Being,  whose  power  can, 
in  a  moment,  crush  the  proudest  monarch,  and  who 
possesses  an  essential  glory  to  which  our  imaginations 
cannot  extend,  and  a  sublimity  of  character  which  is 
elevated  above  the  utmost  stretch  of  thought.  But 
when  he  took  upon  himself  our  nature,  and  lived  in  our 
world,  he  said,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me, 
and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en." She  dwells  in  his  presence,  is  near  his  throne,  and 
sits  at  his  feet.  Increasing  praises  dwell  upon  her  lips  ; 
boundless  perfection  constitutes  her  felicity.  Her  holi- 
ness is  for  ever  perfected.  Her  affections  are  made  to 
flow  in  ever-during  channels  towards  the  source  of  in- 
finite perfection.  Her  knowledge  is  expanded  beyond 
the  highest  conception.  The  sources  of  it  are  ever 
widening,  ever  increasing.  The  light  of  heaven  irra- 
diates her,  and  its  splendours  dehght  her  soul.  Her 
vision  is  unclouded,  and  penetrates  the  deep  things  of 
God.     A  short  time  ago,  she  was  a  sufferer  here  ;  now, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  136 

she  is  a  rejoicing  spirit.  She  has  attained  to  fuller 
powers  than  she  could  have  done  in  this  world,  had  she 
been  possessed  of  the  greatest  wisdom  and  the  talents 
of  the  most  accomplished  individual  that  ever  sojourned 
here.  She  possesses  unbounded  freedom,  and  delights 
in  executing  the  Divine  will.  See  her  amongst  the 
glorious  throng,  now  bending  in  holy  adoration  before 
the  Majesty  of  heaven,  and  now  a  commissioned  mes- 
senger to  far  distant  worlds. 

My  thoughts  were  lost  in  the  boundless  track,  and 
earth  seemed  too  polluted  to  mingle  again  in  its  low 
pursuits. 

"  No  ;  if  I  could,  I  would  not  call  her  down." 

"  Through  glass  of  faith  I  plainly  see 
That  she  is  happier  far  than  me. 
Her  golden  harp  she  tunes  so  sweet, 
While  sitting  at  her  Saviour's  feet. 
That  I  should  like  to  go  and  hear, 
I  sometimes  think,  and  shed  a  tear, — 
No  tear  of  sorrow,  but  of  joy, — 
The  hymns  that  now  my  child  employ. 
Angels  do  sit  and  listen  round, 
I  make  no  doubt,  to  catch  the  sound, 
And  every  voice  in  chorus  raise, 
To  sound  the  great  Redeemer's  praise." 


"  I  WANT  TO  BE  AN  ANGEL." 

A  CHILD  sat  in  the  door  of  a  cottage  at  the  close  of 
a  summer  Sabbath.  The  twilight  was  fading,  and  as 
the  shades  of  evening  darkened,  one  after  another  of 
the  stars  stood  in  the  sky,  and  looked  down  on  the 
child  in  his  thoughtful  mood.  He  was  looking  up  at 
the  stars  and  counting  them  as  they  came,  till  they 
were  too  many  to  be  counted,  and  his  eyes  wandered 


136      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

all  over  the  heavens,  watching  the  bright  worlds  above. 
They  seemed  just  like  "  holes  in  the  floor  of  heaven  to 
let  the  glory  through,"  but  he  knew  better.  Yet  he 
loved  to  look  up  there,  and  was  so  absorbed,  that  his 
mother  called  to  him  and  said : 

"  My  son,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 

He  started  as  if  suddenly  aroused  from  sleep,  and 
answered : 

"  I  was  thinking " 

"  Yes,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  know  you  were  think- 
ing, but  what  were  you  thinking  about  ?" 

"  O,"  said  he,  and  his  Httle  eyes  sparkled  with  the 
thought,  ^- 1  want  to  be  an  angel." 

'•  And  why,  my  son,  would  you  be  an  angel  ?" 

"  Heaven  is  up  there,  is  it  not,  mother  ?  and  there 
the  angels  live  and  love  God,  and  are  happy  ;  I  do 
wish  I  was  good  and  God  would  take  me  there,  and 
let  me  wait  on  him  forever." 

The  mother  called  him  to  her  knee,  and  he  leaned 
on  her  bosom  and  wept.  She  wept  too,  and  smoothed 
the  soft  hair  of  his  head  as  he  stood  there,  and  kissed 
his  forehead,  and  then  told  him  that  if  he  would  give 
his  heart  to  God,  now  while  he  was  young,  the  Saviour 
would  forgive  all  his  sins  and  take  him  to  heaven 
when  he  died,  and  he  would  then  be  with  God  forever. 

His  young  heart  was  comforted.  He  knelt  at  his 
mother's  side  and  said : 

"  Jesus,  Saviour,  Son  of  God, 
Wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood ; 
I  thy  little  lamb  would  be — 
Help  me,  Lord,  to  look  to  thee." 

The  mother  took  the  young  child  to  his  chamber, 
and  soon  he  was  asleep,  dreaming  perhaps  of  angels 
and  heaven.     A  few  months  afterwards  sickness  was 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  137 

on  him,  and  the  hght  of  that  cottage,  the  joy  of  that 
mother's  heart  went  out.  He  breathed  his  last  in  her 
arms,  and  as  he  took  her  parting  kiss,  he  whispered  in 
her  ear : 

"  I  am  going  to  be  an  angel." 

This  is  a  very  simple  story,  and  it  is  just  the  way  I 
have  felt  a  thousand  times.  I  have  looked  at  the 
heavens,  and  given  up  to  the  child's  thought  that  there 
are  the  blest ;  I  have  wished  that  I  might  be  one  of 
their  company ;  done  with  sin  ;  and  a  bright  career  of 
hoUness  and  glory  begun,  to  be  ended  never. 

And  it  looks  so  lovely  there  where  God  is,  and  the 
sunshine  of  his  smile  beams  with  matchless  radiance 
on  every  heart,  and  love  reigns  through  the  realms  of 
glory,  and  each  strives  to  see  which  shall  do  the  most 
for  each  other's  bhss,  that  my  heart  goes  there  as  to  a 
resting-place,  where  sorrow  cannot  enter,  and  joy  flows 
perennially  from  every  soul. 

I  feel  at  such  times  just  Uke  the  child  in  the  cottage 
door  ;  just  like  the  man  of  old,  who  sighed  for  the 
wings  of  a  dove  that  he  might  fly  away. 

Yet,  were  it  not  for  sin,  this  would  be  as  bright  and 
fair  a  world  as  that.  God  would  be  here  as  when  in 
the  morning  of  its  being  he  walked  in  the  garden  with 
his  friend,  and  smiled  on  him  with  parental  love.  The 
angels  would  be  here,  our  companions  and  guides. 
Earth  would  be  heaven,  paradise  as  it  was  when  sin 
was  not. 

Then  to  be  happy  here,  we  must  be  holy.  And  the 
holier  we  are,  the  happier.  And  when  we  are  released 
from  sin,  and  by  the  merits  and  mercy  of  the  Saviour, 
are  introduced  to  the  courts  above,  we  shall  be  as  the 
angels,  holy,  happy,  rejoicing  always  with  God. — 
Mothefs  Magazine. 

12* 


138  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

From  Dr.  Watts'  letter  to  Madam  Sewall,  upon  the 
death  of  her  children. 

*'  Have  you  lost  two  lovely  children  1  Did  you  make 
them  your  idols  ?  If  you  did,  God  has  saved  you  from 
idolatry.  If  you  did  not,  you  have  your  God  still,  and 
a  creature  cannot  be  miserable,  who  has  a  God.  The 
little  words  '  My  God,'  have  infinitely  more  sweetness 
than  ^  my  sons'  or  '  my  daughters.'  Were  they  very 
desirable  blessings?  Your  God  calls  you  to  the  nobler 
sacrifice.  Can  you  give  up  these  to  him  at  his  call? 
So  was  Isaac,  when  Abraham  was  required  to  part 
with  him  at  God's  altar.  Are  you  not  a  daughter  of 
Abraham  ?  Then  imitate  his  faith,  his  self-denial,  his 
obedience,  and  make  your  evidences  of  such  a  spiritual 
relation  to  him  shine  brighter  on  this  solemn  occasion. 
Has  God  taken  them  from  your  arms  ?  And  had  you 
not  given  them  to  God  before?  Had  you  not  devoted 
them  to  him  in  baptism?  Are  you  displeased  that 
God  calls  for  his  own  ?  Was  not  your  heart  sincere  in 
the  resignation  of  them  to  him?  Show  then,  madam, 
the  sincerity  of  your  heart  in  leaving  them  in  the  hand 
of  God.  Do  you  say,  they  are  lost  ?  Not  out  of  God's 
sight,  and  God's  world,  though  they  are  gone  out  of 
your  sight  and  our  world.  '  All  live  to  God.'  You 
may  hope  the  spreading  covenant  of  grace  has  shelter- 
ed them  from  the  second  death.  They  live,  though 
not  with  you. 

"  Are  you  ready  to  complain,  you  have  brought  forth 
for  the  grave  ?  It  may  be  so,  but  not  in  vain.  Is.  Ixv. 
25.  '  They  shall  not  labour  in  vain,  nor  bring  forth 
for  trouble  (i.  e.  for  sorrow  without  hope) ;  for  they  are 
the  seed  of  the  blessed  of  the  Lord,  and  their  offspring 
with  them.'  This  has  been  a  sweet  text  to  many  a 
mother,  when  their  children  are  called  away  betimes. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  139 

And  the  prophet  Jeremy,  ch.  xxxi.  15,  17,  has  very- 
comfortable  words  to  allay  the  same  sorrows.  Did  you 
please  yourself  in  what  comforts  you  might  have  de- 
rived from  them  in  maturer  years?  But,  madam,  do 
you  consider  sufficiently,  that  God  has  taken  them 
away  from  the  evil  to  come,  and  hid  them  in  the  grave 
from  the  prevailing  and  mischievous  temptations  of  a 
degenerate  age?  My  brother's  w^ife,  in  London,  has 
buried  seven  or  eight  children,  and  among  them,  all 
her  sons.  This  thought  has  reconciled  her  to  the 
providence  of  God,  tliat  the  temptations  of  young  men 
in  this  age  are  so  exceedingly  great,  and  she  has  seen 
so  many  of  the  young  gentlemen  of  her  acquaintance 
so  shanvefuUy  degenerate,  that  she  wipes  her  tears  for 
the  sons  cl^  has  buried,  and  composes  her  soul  to  pa- 
tience and  thankfulness,  with  one  only  daughter  re- 
maining. Perhaps  God  has  by  this  stroke  prevented  a 
thousand  unknown  sorrows.  Are  your  sons  dead  ? 
But  are  all  your  mercies  dead  too?  Food,  raiment, 
safety,  peace,  hberty  of  religion,  access  to  the  mercy 
seat,  hope  of  heaven ;  all  these  are  daily  matters  of 
thankfulness.  Good  madam,  let  not  one  sorrow  bury 
them  all.  Show  that  you  are  a  Christian,  by  making 
it  to  appear,  that  religion  has  supports  in  it  which  the 
world  doth  not  know.  What  can  a  poor  worldling  do, 
but  mourn  over  earthly  blessings  departed,  and  gone 
down  with  them  comfortless  to  the  grave  ?  But  me- 
thinks  a  Christian  should  hft  up  his  head,  as  partaking 
of  higher  hopes.  May  the  blessed  Spirit  be  your  com- 
forter, madam.  Endeavour  to  employ  yourself  in  some 
business  or  employment  of  life  continually,  lest  a  soli- 
tary and  inactive  frame  of  mind  tempt  you  to  sit  brood- 
ing over  your  sorrows,  and  nurse  them  to  a  dangerous 
size.  Turn  your  thoughts  often  to  the  brighter  scenes 
of  heaven  and  the  resurrection. 


140      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

"  Forgive  the  freedom  of  a  stranger,  madam,  who 
desires  to  be  the  humble  and  faithful  servant  of  Christ 
and  souls.  "  Isaac  Watts." 


FROM  DR.  DODDRIDGE. 

Could  I  wish,  that  this  young  inhabitant  of  heav- 
en should  be  degraded  to  earth  again  ?  Or  would  it 
thank  me  for  that  wish  ?  Would  it  say,  that  it  was 
the  part  of  a  wise  parent,  to  call  it  down  from  a  sphere 
of  such  exalted  services  and  pleasures,  to  our  low  life 
here  upon  earth  ?  Let  me  rather  be  thankful  for  the 
pleasing  hope,  that  though  God  loves  my  child  too  well 
to  permit  it  to  return  to  me,  he  will  ere  long  bring  me 
to  it.  And  then  that  endeared  paternal  affection, 
which  would  have  been  a  cord  to  tie  me  to  earth,  and 
have  added  new  pangs  to  my  removal  from  it,  will  be 
as  a  golden  chain  to  draw  me  upwards,  and  add  one 
farther  charm  and  joy  even  to  paradise  itself  And  oh, 
how  great  a  joy !  to  view  the  change,  and  to  compare 
that  dear  idea,  so  fondly  laid  up,  so  often  reviewed, 
with  the  now  glorious  original,  in  the  improvement  of 
the  upper  world  !  To  borrow  the  words  of  the  sacred 
writer,  in  a  very  different  sense  :  '•^  I  said  Iioas  deso- 
late and  bereaved  of  children^  and  who  hath  brought 
up  these  7  I  ivas  left  alone,  and  these  where  have 
they  been  7*  Was  this  my  desolation  ?  this  my  sor- 
row ?  to  part  with  thee  for  a  few  days,  That  I  might 
receive  thee  for  ever,t  and  find  thee  what  thou  art  ?" 
It  is  for  no  language,  but  that  of  heaven,  to  describe 
the  sacred  joy  which  such  a  meeting  must  occasion. 

In  the  meantime.  Christians,  let  us  keep  the  lively 
expectation  of  it,  and  let  what  has  befallen  us  draw 

*  Isa.  xlix.  21.  t  Philem.  ver.  15. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      141 

our  thoughts  to  heaven.  Perhaps  they  will  sometimes, 
before  we  are  aware,  sink  to  the  grave,  and  dwell  in 
the  tombs  that  contain  the  poor  remains  of  what  was 
once  so  dear  to  us.  But  let  them  take  flight  from 
thence  to  more  noble,  more  delightful  scenes.  And  I 
will  add,  let  the  hope  we  have  of  the  happiness  of  our 
children  render  God  still  dearer  to  our  souls.  We  feel 
a  very  lender  sense  of  the  kindness  which  our  friends 
expressed  towards  them,  and  think,  indeed  very  justly, 
that  their  affectionate  care  for  them  lays  a  lasting  ob- 
ligation upon  us.  What  love  then,  and  what  service 
do  we  owe  to  thee,  oh  gracious  Father,  who  hast,  we 
hope,  received  them  into  thine  house  above,  and  art 
now  entertaining  them  there  with  unknown  delight, 
though  our  former  methods  of  commerce  with  them  be 
cut  off!  "  Lord,"  should  each  of  us  say  in  such  a  case, 
"  I  would  take  what  thou  art  doing  to  my  child  as  done 
to  myself,  and  as  a  specimen  and  earnest  of  what  shall 
shortly  be  done."     It  is  therefore  well. 


THE  REGENERATION  OP  INFANTS. 

BY  THE  REV.  JAMES  BUCHANAN.* 

Dr.  Buchanan. shows  the  doctrine  of  the  Confession 
of  Faith  on  the  subject  of  regeneration,  of  its  absolute 
necessity  to  all  men,  including  infants  ;  that  it  is  not 
baptism,  nor  necessarily  connected  with  it,  although 
baptism  is  its  sign  seal,  and  when  God  pleases,  its 
means ;  and  that  infants  are  capable  of  being  regen- 
erated. He  then  lays  down  the  position  that  children, 
however  young,  even  infants  in  their  mothers'  arms,  are 

*  Of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  in  his  Work  on  the  Office  and 
Work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.     Part  I.,  eh.  viii.     Edinburgh,  1842. 


142      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

fit  and  capable  subjects  of  divine  grace,  may  be  evinced  by 
various  considerations.  Several  of  these  considerations 
afford  a  presumption  in  favour  of  the  expectation  that 
some  provision  would  be  made  in  the  scheme  of  gracfe 
on  their  behalf ;  while  others  of  them  afford  a  positive 
proof  that  such  a  provision  exists,  and  is  available  for 
their  benefit.         ***** 

The  positive  proof  on  the  subject  will  be  found  to 
afford  ample  evidence  for  affirming  that  in  the  actual 
scheme  of  grace,  provision  has  been  made  for  the  case 
of  infants,  and  that  they  are  fit  and  capable  subjects  of 
the  Gospel  salvation. 

That  proof  consists  chiefly,  (1)  in  express  doctrinal 
statements  on  the  subject ;  (2)  in  recorded  instances  of 
sanctified  infancy ;  (3)  in  the  analogy  of  the  typical 
dispensation  ;  and  (4)  in  the  ordinance  of  baptism,  as 
apphcable  to  infants  in  the  Christian  church.     *     *     * 

On  these  grounds,  I  think  it  must  be  evident  that  in- 
fant children  are  fit  and  capable  subjects  of  divine 
grace,  and  that  they  are  included  in  the  covenant  of 
redemption.  It  may  be  difficult  for  us  to  understand 
in  what  way  the  Spirit  of  God  operates  on  their  minds, 
or  through  what  medium  they  obtain  a  participation 
of  the  blessings  of  salvation,  which  are  said  to  be  •'  by 
faith."'  The  regeneration  of  infants  may  be  ascribed 
to  a  direct  operation  of  the  Spirit  on  their  minds,  and 
in  this  respect  may  be  said  to  resemble  what  is  sup- 
posed to  be  in  every  case  the  primary  influence  of  the 
Spirit,  under  which  the  soul  is  passive,  and  by  which, 
without  the  intervention  of  any  instrumentahty,  he  ef- 
fects a  permanent  change,  "  predisposing  it  to  receive, 
and  love,  and  obey  the  truth."*  By  this  direct  opera- 
tion he  may  implant  that  principle  of  grace  which  is 

»  Lectures  by  Dr.  Payne  of  Exeter,  338,  357. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      143 

the  germ  of  the  new  creature, — that  incorruptible  seed, 
which  may  he  long  under  the  furrow,  but  will  sooner 
or  later  spring  up,  and  produce  the  peaceable  fruits  of 
righteousness.  Our  older  divines  were  wont  to  distin- 
guish between  the  principle  or  habit  of  grace,  and  the 
exercise  of  grace  ;*  and  to  maintain  that  the  principle 
might  exist  in  children  who  were  as  yet  incapable  of 
the  exercise,  and  that  grace  in  such  was  real  and  sa- 
vingjt  It  may  be  generally  connected  too,  with  the 
faith  of  the  parent,  in  whom,  during  the  period  of  non- 
age, the  infant  is  federally  included. t  But  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  say  in  the  language  of  the  Westminster  Con- 
fession, that  "  they  are  regenerated  and  saved  by  Christ 
through  the  Spirit,  who  worketh  when,  and  where,  and 
how  he  pleaseth," — "for  the  wind  bloweth  where  it 
listeth,  and  thou  canst  not  tell  whence  it  coineth,  nor 
whither  it  goeth  :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the 
Spirit."  And  to  him  who  objects  to  the  regeneration 
of  infants  on  the  ground  of  its  mysteriousness,  may  we 
not  say,  that  the  natural  birth  of  a  child  is  full  of  mys- 
tery :  "I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made :  mar- 
vellous are  thy  works,  and  that  my  soul  knoweth  right 
well.  My  substance  was  not  hid  from  thee  when  I 
was  made  in  secret,  and  curiously  wrought  in  the  low- 
est parts  of  the  earth.  Thine  eyes  did  see  my  sub- 
stance, yet  being  imperfect ;  and  in  thy  book  all  my 
members  were  written,  which  in  continuance  were  fash- 
ioned, when  as  yet  there  was  none  of  them  ;" — and 
in  the  Preacher's  words,  "  as  thou  knowest  not  what  is 
the  way  of  the  Spirit,  nor  how  the  bones  do  grow  in  the 
womb  of  her  that  is  with  child,  even  so  thou  knowest 
not  the  works  of  God  who  maketh  alJ." 


*  Dr.  Owen,  ii.  283,  482,  492.  t  Ibid.  ii.  413. 

X  Homilies  on  Baptism,  by  Rev.  Edward  Irving,  346, 349 


144      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

FROM  THE  REV.  DR.  PYE, 

IN  REPLY  TO  A  LETTER  OF  CONDOLENCE  ON  THE  DEATH  OP  HIS 

CHILDREN. 

Dear  Sir, — I  cannot  sufficiently  express  my  grati- 
tude for  your  very  kind  letter,  and  seasonable  present 
of  your  sermon.  My  wife  and  I  now  look  upon  ourselves 
as  your  friends,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word  ;  since  you 
have  manifested  so  much  tenderness  and  compassion  in 
our  late  circumstances  of  grief,  and  indeed,  to  us,  uncom- 
mon sorrow.  I  call  them  late  circumstances,  because 
the  time  is  already  come,  when,  I  am  sure,  we  can 
both  of  us  speak  of  the  death  of  our  children  with  re- 
signation, and  think  of  them  with  pleasure.  What 
philosophy  could  not  accomplish  Christianity  has  done. 
To  the  author  of  our  religion  and  our  consolation  be 
the  glory. 

I  cannot  in  a  better  manner  express  our  thoughts 
upon  this  occasion,  than  by  quoting  the  following  lines, 
which  I  V  rote,  a  few  days  after  the  death  of  our  two 
children,  for  the  use  of  my  then  mourning  wife  and 
myself  You  may  call  it  a  short  letter  from  my  dear 
girl  to  us,  just  after  she  had  ceased  to  breathe,  and  a 
little  before  her  brother's  death. 

"Your  tender  care  and  fond,  though  rational  love 
of  all  your  children,  with  your  agonies  of  grief  under 
the  apprehension  of  parting  with  me  and  my  dear  bro- 
ther, are  the  most  convincing  proofs  of  the  reality  and 
greatness  of  your  sorrow,  now  that  I  am  gone,  and  he 
is  just  upon  the  wing  to  follow  me  to  the  unknown 
world.  But  it  was  He  who  made  us  that  called  us 
away,  and  we  cheerfully  obeyed  the  summons :  and  I 
must  now  tell  you,  though  you  both  already  know  it, 
that  He  expects  from  you,  not  only  that  you  meekly 
and  calmly  submit  to  such  a  seemingly  severe  dispen- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  145 

sation  of  his  providence,  but  tliat  you  also  rejoice  with 
me  in  it,  because  it  is  the  will  and  pleasure  of  our  di- 
vine Father. 

"  I,  young  as  I  was,  am  now  become  an  inhabitant 
of  heaven,  and  already  see  the  beauty  and  harmony 
of  that  little  chain  of  events,  which  related  to  my  short 
abode  in  your  world,  and  even  the  manner  of  my  leav- 
ing it :  and  when  you  see  the  things  as  they  really  are 
and  not  as  they  may  now  appear,  you  will  confess  and 
adore  the  divine  goodness,  even  in  taking  us  so  soon 
from  your  embraces. 

"  God,  who  has  made  all  things  for  the  manifestation 
of  his  adorable  perfections,  gave  us  our  being  from  you ; 
adore  him  therefore  for  his  goodness,  in  making  use  of 
you  as  instruments,  in  the  course  of  events,  to  usher  us 
into  the  world.  Ask  not  why  he  so  early  removed  us  ; 
we  sufficiently  answered  the  great  end  of  our  being,  if, 
while  living  at  the  same  time  that  we  gave  you  plea- 
sure, you  were  disposed  to  lead  us,  by  your  examples 
and  precepts,  into  the  paths  of  virtue  and  religion  ;  and 
if  now,  by  the  loss  of  us,  you  become  examples  of  pa- 
tience and  submission  to  the  Divine  will,  which,  next 
to  doing  the  will  of  God,  are  virtues  which  bear  the 
greatest  name  in  our  world. 

"Let,  therefore,  all  the  little  incidents  in  our  past 
hves,  the  remembrance  of  which  are  too  apt  to  renew 
your  sorrow,  be  so  many  occasions  of  your  joy:  inas- 
much as  they  may  recall  the  pleasant  ideas  you  once 
dehghted  in ;  and  to  let  the  dismaying  and  melancholy 
remembrance  of  our  sickness  and  early  death,  be 
changed  into  cheering  and  bright  ideas  of  what  we 
now  enjoy ;  and  what  you,  I  hope,  will  one  day  see  i|8 
in  possession  of."  :^^U 

13 


146  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


ORIGINAL  LETTER  OF  DR.  MASON.* 

The  respected  friend  who  has  favoured  us  with  these 
letters  for  pubUcation,  will  have  secured  his  main  object, 
should  any  whom  God  has  set  in  darkness,  derive  from 
them  light  and  consolation.  Let  mourners  read  them 
and  be  comforted.  The  great  truths  which  satisfied 
the  reason,  gave  peace  to  the  heart,  and  rendered  full 
of  immortality  the  hopes  of  Dr.  Mason,  can  sustain  the 
soul  under  every  misfortune  and  calamity,  and  enable 
it  to  rise  above  the  fear,  and  prove  itself  invincible  in  the 
warfare  with  Death.  They  are  a  treasure  open  and 
free  for  all  who  will  receive  them  with  thankful  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  divine  mercy  and  faith  in  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  With  them  poverty  is  rich,  and 
sorrow  clad  in  garments  of  praise ;  without  them  the 
purple  of  all  the  Caesars  were  but  rags  and  wretched- 
ness, and  kings  poor  indeed. 

New  Yohk  I2th  ApHl,  1808. 
Again  in  the  furnace,  my  brother  !  Again  lament- 
ing under  the  chastenings  of  God  !  My  heart  bleeds 
with  yours,  I  pour  out  my  tears  and  supplications  that 
this  new  and  sore  visiting  may  be  blessed,  and  may  af- 
terwards yield  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.  It 
shall  be  so.  It  is  so,  in  some  measure,  already.  What- 
ever brings  us  to  the  feet  of  our  Redeemer,  does  us  good. 
He  is  the  physician,  and  he  knows  best  how  to  make 
up  the  prescription,  and  how  to  administer  it.  He  has 
taken  away  your  boy,  but  not  Himself,  nor  his  loving 
kindnesses.  He  has  shown  you  the  rod,  but  not  the 
evil  it  has  avoided.  He  has  made  you  to  smart  under 
the  stroke,  but  it  is,  probably,  a  substitute  for  some  blow 

»  From  the  N.  Y.  Obeerver. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      147 

unspeakably  more  awful,  and  perhaps  nigh  at  hand 
when  he  smote  you,  but  now  turned  aside  forever.  We 
must  live  by  faith,  my  brother.  Our  comforts  must 
not  be  our  gods.  Our  souls  have  neither  purity  nor 
peace,  nor  establishment,  nor  victory,  but  in  proportion 
as  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Lord  our  life,  and  our  hfe- 
giving  head.  O,  for  that  habitual  nearness  to  him 
which  shall  keep  in  constant  and  gracious  dependence 
upon  his  word  of  truth,  which  he  has  promised  never  to 
take  utterly  from  us.  The  further  the  creature  re- 
moves from  us.  the  more  desirable  and  consoHng  is  our 
walking  with  him  who,  when  we  are  overwhelmed, 
knows  our  path. 

Yours  most  tenderly, 
Rev.  Jas.  Laurie.  J.  M.  Mason. 


TO  a  bereaved  parent. 

ERSKINE. 


I  CANNOT,  I  dare  not  say,  weep  not.  Jesus  wept  at 
the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  surely,  he  allows  you  to  weep ; 
surely,  there  is  a  "  needs  be"  that  you  feel  a  heaviness 
under  such  a  trial.  But  O,  let  hope  and  joy  mitigate 
your  heaviness.  I  know  not  how  this,  or  a  former  trial, 
shall  work  for  your  good,  but  it  is  enough  that  God 
knows.  He  that  said,  "  All  things  shall  work  together 
for  good  to  them  that  love  God,"  excepts  not  from  this 
promise  the  sorest  trial.  You  devoted  your  son  to  God  ; 
you  cannot  doubt  that  he  accepted  the  surrender.  If 
he  has  been  hid  in  the  chamber  of  the  grave  from  the 
evil  of  sin,  and  from  the  evil  of  suifering,  let  not  your 
eye  be  evil,  when  God  is  good.  What  you  chiefly  wish- 
ed for  him,  and  prayed  on  his  behalf,  was  spiritual  and 
heavenly  blessings.     If  the  greatest  thing  you  wished 


i4fl  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

for  is  accomplishedj  at  the  season  and  in  the  manner  In- 
finite Wisdom  saw  best,  refuse  not  to  be  comforted; 
you  know  not  what  work  and  joy  have  been  waiting 
for  him  in  that  world,  where  God's  "  servants  shall  serve 
him."  Should  you  sorrow  immoderately  when  you  have 
such  ground  of  hope  that  he,  and  his  other  parent  are 
rejoicing  in  what  you  lament?  I  know  that  nature 
will  feel ;  and  I  beUeve  suppressing  its  emotions  in  such 
cases  is  not  profitable,  either  to  soul  or  body  ;  but  I  trust, 
though  you  mourn,  God  will  keep  you  from  murmur- 
ing, and  that  you  shall  have  to  glory  in  your  tribulation 
and  infirmity,  while  the  power  of  Christ  is  manifested 
thereby. 

Unhappy  one  !  thou  callest  in  vain  unto  the  dead  to 
awake.  The  sleep  of  the  body  is  dreamless  and  eternal. 
Cold  and  white  as  the  marble  is  that  face  of  beauty : 
as  still  that  breast  v/hich  heaves  with  deep  affection. 
Turn  to  the  heavenly  Helper  !  Between  God  and  thee 
was  her  love  divided.  O  flee  to  Him  in  thy  sorrow,  and 
he  will  give  thee  consolation.  He  himself  hath  drunk 
of  every  cup  of  bitterness  :  he  will  have  sympathy  with 
thee  in  thy  anguish  ;  he  will  heal  thy  broken  heart. 

Walter  Hawthorne. 


REV.  ROBERT  HALL,  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  CHILD. 

My  Dear  Friend  : — 

I  am  greatly  obliged  for  your  kind  and  consolatory 
letter,  replete  with  those  topics  wlience  alone  true  con- 
solation can  be  deduced.  The  stroke  has  been  very  se- 
verely felt  by  us  both,  but  certainly  most  by  dear  Mrs. 
Hall.  She  was  dotingly  fond  of  our  lovely  boy.  For 
my  own  part,  I  was  not  at  all  aware  my  affection  for 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  149 

him  was  so  strong,  until  he  was  removed  from  us ;  my 
anguish  was  then  great.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  felt 
more  on  this  occasion,  than  I  should  at  the  loss  of  either 
of  my  others.  This  feeling,  I  suspect,  was  delusive,  and 
arises  from  our  being  incapable  of  estimating  the  strength 
of  our  attachment  to  any  object  until  it  is  removed.  I 
was  disappointed  in  his  being  a  boy  ;  for  recollecting 
my  own  extreme  and  portentous  wickedness,  I  fancied 
there  was  something  in  the  constitution  of  boys  pecu- 
liarly tending  to  vice,  and  adverse  to  their  spiritual  in- 
terests. I  had  also  remarked  that  females  seemed  much 
more  susceptible  of  religious  impressions  than  men. 
On  these  accounts  I  trembled  for  his  salvation,  and  did 
not  feel  that  gratitude  for  the  blessing  vouchsafed  me, 
which  I  ought.  I  suspect  I  greatly  displeased  God  by 
my  distrust  of  his  goodness,  and  that  he  saw  it  meet  to 
adopt  this  method  of  chastising  me.  May  it  be  sancti- 
fied as  a  means  of  making  me  humble,  heavenly,  and 
submissive.  It  is  a  very  solemn  consideration,  that  a 
part  of  myself  is  in  eternity,  in  the  presence,  I  trust,  of 
the  Saviour.  How  awful  will  it  be,  should  the  branch 
be  saved,  and  the  stock  perish  ! 

Pray  for  me,  my  dear  friend,  that  this  may  not  be  the 
case  ;  but  that  I  may  be  truly  sanctified,  and  permitted 
to  walk  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  consolations 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. 


FROM  A  LETTER  OF  ROBERT  HALL. 


(fdE  SINCERELY  sympathize  with  you  in  the  loss  of  your 
child  J  but,  my  dear  friend,  do  not  suffer  your  spirits 
to  sink.  Remember  the  tenure  on  which  all  human 
enjoyments  are  held,  the  wisdom  and  sovereignty  of 
their  great  Author,  and  the  gracious  promise  afforded 


160  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

to  true  Christians,  that  "all  things  shall  work  together 
for  good,  to  thern  that  love  him." 

Remember,  also,  the  many  blessings  with  which  a 
kind  Providence  still  indulges  you.  Ought  you  not  to 
rejoice,  that  your  affectionate  companion  in  life  is 
spared ;  and  that,  though  your  child  is  snatched  from 
your  embraces,  he  has  escaped  from  a  world  of  sin 
and  sorrow  ?  The  stamp  of  immortality  is  placed  on 
his  happiness,  and  he  is  encircled  by  the  arms  of  a 
compassionate  Redeemer.  Had  he  been  permitted  to 
live,  and  you  had  witnessed  the  loss  of  his  virtue,  you 
might  have  been  reserved  to  suffer  still  severer  pangs. 
A  most  excellent  family,  in  our  congregation,  are  now 
melancholy  spectators  of  a  son  dying,  at  nineteen 
years  of  age,  by  inches,  a  victim  to  his  vices.  They 
have  frequently  regretted  he  did  not  die  several  years 
since,  when  his  Hfe  was  nearly  despaired  of  in  a  severe 
fever.  •'  Who  knoweth  what  is  good  for  a  man  all 
the  days  of  this,  his  vain  life,  which  he  spends  as  a 
shadow  ?" 


THE  LOSS  OF  CHILDREN. 

FLAVEL. 

Mourner,  whatever  may  be  your  grief  for  the  death 
of  your  children,  it  might  have  been  still  greater  for 
their  life.  Bitter  experience  once  led  a  good  man  to 
say,  "  It  is  better  to  weep  for  ten  children  dead,  than  for 
one  living."  Remember  the  heart-piercing  affliction 
of  David,  whose  son  sought  his  life.  Your  love  for 
your  children  will  hardly  admit  of  the  thought  of  such 
a  thing  as  possible,  in  your  own  case.  They  appear- 
ed innocent  and  amiable;  and   you   fondly  believed, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  151 

that  through  your  care  and  prayers,  they  would  have 
become  the  joy  of  your  hearts.  But  may  not  Esau, 
when  a  child,  have  promised  as  much  comfort  to  his 
parents  as  Jacob  ?  Probably  he  had  as  many  of  their 
prayers  and  counsels.  But  as  years  advanced,  he  de- 
spised their  admonitions,  and  filled  their  hearts  with 
grief.  As  a  promoter  of  family  religion,  who  ever  re- 
ceived such  an  encomium  from  the  God  of  heaven  as 
Abraham  ?  How  tenderly  did  the  good  man  pray  for 
Ishmael !  '•  O  that  Ishmael  might  live  before  thee  !" 
Yet  how  little  comfort  did  Ishmael  afford. 

Alas  !  in  these  days  of  degeneracy,  parents  much 
more  frequently  witness  the  vices  of  their  children 
than  their  virtues.  And  even  should  your  children 
prove  amiable  and  promising,  you  might  live  to  be  the 
wretched  witness  of  their  sufferings.  Some  parents 
have  felt  unutterable  agonies  of  this  kind. 

God  may  have  taken  the  lamented  objects  of  your 
affection  from  the  evil  to  come.  When  extraordinary 
calamities  are  coming  on  the  world,  he  frequently  hides 
some  of  his  feebler  children  in  the  grave.  Surely,  at 
such  a  portentous  period,  it  is  happier  for  such  as  are 
prepared,  to  be  lodged  in  that  peaceful  mansion,  than 
to  be  exposed  to  calamities  and  distresses  here.  Thus 
intimates  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  "  Weep  not  for  the 
dead,  neither  bemoan  him  ;  but  weep  sore  for  him 
that  goeth  away  ;  for  he  shall  return  no  more,  nor  see 
his  native  country."  It  was  in  a  day  when  the  faith 
and  patience  of  the  saints  were  peculiarly  tried,  that  the 
voice  from  heaven  said,  '•  Write,  blessed  are  the  dead, 
which  die  in  the  Lord,  from  henceforth." 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

THE  EARLY  DEAD.* 
^  To  Mr. and  Mrs. on  the  loss  of  an  only  child. 

I  HOPE  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  severity  of  the 
blow  which  has  fallen  upon  you,  and  spread  desolation 
over  your  house ;  I  desire  in  the  spirit  of  Him  who  was 
a  man  of  sorrows,  to  condole  with  you  in  this  affliction. 

It  seems  but  yesterday  that  I  beheld  your  dear  A , 

and  rejoiced  with  you  in  her  personal  comeliness,  and 
her  bright  promise.  Now  the  grave  covers  her  from  our 
sight.  Alas  !  how  insecure  are  our  choicest  pleasures, 
and  our  most  valued  blessings.  Like  the  dew  upon  a 
flower,  how  soon  they  vanish,  and  we  see  them  no 
more  !  We  trust — our  confidence  is  destroyed  ;  we 
hope — our  expectation  is  cut  off. 

It  is  no  province  of  mine  to  exhort  you  not  to  mourn. 
"  Jesus  wept."  The  bosom  will  heave :  we  have  affec- 
tions and  sympathies ;  and  who  shall  say  it  is  unchris- 
tian to  drop  the  tributary  tear  over  the  ashes  of  the 
loved  and  lost  ?  But  1  may  exhort  you  to  sikek  that 
temper  of  resignation,  which  will  enable  you  to  say 
with  Job, — "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  You  may 
h^ve  occasion  hereafter  to  say,  It  is  good  for  us  that  we 
have  been  afflicted. 

..''Amid  your  list  of  blessings  infinite 

"This  may  stand  foremost,  that  your  hearts  have  bledJ^ 

Pray  that  God  would  not  only  send  consolation,  but 
the  sanctifying  influences  of  his  Spirit ;  pray  that  "  this 
dart,  like  that  which  once  pierced  an  imposthume  in 
battle,  may  bring  health  with  its  wounds ;"  and  you 

♦  From  the  N.  Y.  Observer. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      153 

shall  be  enabled  to  say  with  one  of  old,  "  The  Lord 
hath  chastened  us  sore ;  but  he  hath  not  given  us  over 
unto  death." 

Death,  though  it  involves  many  circumstances  of  a 
painful  character,  is  often,  in  no  small  degree,  render- 
ed even  attractive  and  lovely.  There  is  something 
glorious  and  sublime  in  the  exit  of  a  saint,  who  is  ripe 
for  heaven,  from  this  sorrowful,  sinful  world.  There  is 
something  even  lovely  in  the  departure  of  an  infant  to 
be  with  angels,  notwithstanding  the  awful  chasm 
it  occasions  in  the  bereaved  circle.  The  lifeless  clay  is 
beautiful ;  death  cannot  "  steal  the  signet  ring  of 
heaven."  It  is  no  paradox,  then,  to  speak  of  the 
beauty  of  death.  We  gaze  upon  features,  pale  and 
cold  indeed,  but  which  have  never  been  furrowed  by 
care  ;  which  have  never  been  distorted  by  envy,  malice 
or  revenge,  never  have  been  darkened  by  pining  grief. 
And  as  we  gaze,  there  is  no  retrospect  of  reverses  and 
vicissitudes,  of  sorrows  and  of  sin.  True  we  hold  the 
remains  of  one  who  was  the  offspring  of  depraved  pa- 
rents, who  inherited  a  depraved  nature,  and  could  be 
saved  only  by  the  atoning  merits  of  a  crucified  Sav- 
iour ;  and  who,  if  life  had  lasted,  would  have  been  ex- 
posed to  temptation  and  sin.  But  how  consolatory  and 
cheering  the  reflection  that  the  soul,  which  so  lately 
animated  the  lifeless  frame,  now  adorns,  like  a  starry 
gem,  the  crown  of  our  glorious  Immanuel. 

It  is  a  relief  to  the  agonized  feelings  of  parents  and 
bereaved  friends,  that  the  early  dead  are  rescued  from 
many  evils  to  come.  This  world  is  a  wilderness, 
through  which  it  is  impossible  to  pass  and  avoid  dan- 
ger j  or  this  life  is  a  voyage  which  exposes  us  to  many 
tempests  and  adverse  winds.  How  many  in  their  sor- 
row, have  mourned  like  Job  that  they  did  not  die  in 
infancy,  "for  then  they  should  have  lain  still  and  been 


154  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

quiet,  they  should  have  slept  and  been  at  rest."  The 
early  dead  escape  not  only  temptations  and  sins,  but 
from  the  hazards  of  this  changeful  world,  from  vicissi- 
tudes, pain,  weakness,  from  days  of  anguish,  from 
sleepless  nights,  from  untold  agony.  The  merciful 
Disposer  of  events  may  have  foreseen  a  storm  of  ad- 
versity impending,  and  therefore  removed  your  precious 
lamb  to  a  place  of  safety — the  upper  fold — to  the  bosom 
of  the  good  Shepherd.  Is  it  not  safer,  nay,  happier  on 
that  bosom  than  it  could  have  been  on  your  own? 

And  how  consolatory  is  the  reflection  that  your  dear 
A is  not  lost^  but  only  removed  to  another  apart- 
ment in  our  heavenly  Father's  house  !  Gone  before 
you — gone^  indeed,  to  return  no  more ;  but  not  lost^ 
and  may  still  be  yours ; 

"  A  treasure  but  removed, 
A  bright  bird  parted  for  a  clearer  day — 
Yours  still  in  heaven  !" 

Yours  hereafter  to  meet — yours  to  love — yours  with 
whom  to  rejoice  in  eternal  hymns  of  praise  to  a  glorifi- 
ed Saviour.  If  children  are  a  parent's  jewels,  let  him 
not  be  disconsolate,  when  they  are  taken  to  be  planted 
in  the  Redeemer's  diadem.  If  children  are  our  olive 
plants,  flowers  which  we  tenderly  cherish,  let  us  not 
mourn  wheu  they  are  taken  to  a  shelter  from  the  win- 
try storm  and  tempest. 

It  is  to  Christianity  we  are  indebted  for  the  most  ef- 
fectual consolation  in  the  hour  of  bereavement.  It  dis- 
robes death  of  his  terrors,  and  disarms  him  of  his 
sting.  It  teaches  us  to  view  death  as  a  separation^ 
and  strews  the  amaranth  over  the  tomb.  Christianity 
styles  death  a  sleep,  and  the  grave  a  bed  ;  an  old  writer 
calls  it  "  a  perfumed  bed,"  for  Jesus  slept  in  it.  It  con- 
secrates the  sepulchre.    It  places  angels  of  light  around 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  155 

its  portals  to  guard  and  keep  the  reposing  dust,  and 
writes  thereon,  "  Hope,"  "  Eternal  Life." 

That  God  may  comfort  you  with  the  consolations  of 
his  grace,  which  are  neither  few  nor  small,  is  the  pray- 
er of  your  friend,  Ald. 

Boston^  Jan.  2^th.  1840. 


THE  INFANT  IN  HEAVEN. 
BY    DR.    CHALMERS. 

The  following  beautiful  passage  from  the  writings 
of  Dr.  Chalmers  may  comfort  many  a  sorrowing  mother, 
as  she  weeps  over  the  grave  of  her  infant  babe. 

This  affords,  we  think,  something  more  than  a  du- 
bious ghmpse  into  the  question,  that  is  often  put  by  a 
distracted  mother  when  her  babe  is  taken  away  from 
her — when  ail  the  converse  it  ever  had  with  the  world, 
amounted  to  the  gaze  upon  it  of  a  few  months,  or  a  few 
opening  smiles,  which  marked  the  dawn  of  felt  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  ere  it  reached  perhaps  the  hsp  of  infancy, 
it,  all  unconscious  of  death,  had  to  wrestle  through  a 
period  of  sickness  with  its  power,  and  at  length  to  be 
overcome  by  it.  Oh  !  it  little  knew  what  an  interest 
it  had  created  in  that  home  where  it  was  so  passing  a 
visitant — nor,  when  carried  to  its  early  grave,  what  a 
tide  of  emotion  it  would  raise  among  the  few  acquaint- 
ances it  left  behind  it  !  On  it,  too,  baptism  was  im- 
pressed as  a  seal :  and,  as  a  sign,  it  was  never  falsified. 
There  was  no  positive  unbelief  in  its  bosom  ;  no  resist- 
ance yet  put  forth  to  the  truth ;  no  love  at  all  for  the 
darkness  rather  than  the  hght ;  nor  had  it  yet  fallen 
into  that  great  condemnation  which  will  attach  itself 
to  all  that  perish  because  of  unbelief,  that  their  deeds 


rl66  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

iare  evil.  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  God  instituted 
circumcision  for  tlie  infant  children  of  the  Jews,  and  at 
least  suffered  baptism  for  the  infant  children  of  those 
who  profess  Christianity.  Should  the  child  die  in  in- 
fancy, the  use  of  baptism,  as  a  sign,  has  never  been 
thwarted  by  it ;  and  may  we  not  be  permitted  to  in- 
dulge a  hope  so  pleasing,  as  that  the  use  of  baptism  as 
a  seal  remains  in  all  its  entireness ;  that  He,  who  sanc- 
tioned the  atTixing  of  it  to  a  babe,  will  fulfil  upon  it  the 
whole  expression  of  this  ordinance.  And  when  we 
couple  with  this  the  known  disposition  of  our  great  Fore- 
runner, the  love  that  he  manifested  to  children  on  earth, 
how  he  suffered  them  to  approach  his  person,  and  lav- 
ishing endearment  and  kindness  upon  them  in  the  streets 
of  Jerusalem,  told  his  disciples,  that  the  presence  and 
company  of  such  as  these  in  heaven  formed  one  ingre- 
dient of  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him  ;  tell  us  if 
Christianity  does  not  throw  a  pleasing  radiance  around 
an  infant's  tomb?  and  should  any  parent  who  hears 
us,  feel  softened  by  the  touching  remembrance  of  alight 
that  twinkled  a  few  short  months  under  his  roof,  and 
at  the  end  of  its  Uttle  period  expired,  we  cannot  think 
that  we  venture  too  far,  v/hen  we  say,  that  he  has  only 
to  persevere  in  the  faith,  and  in  the  following  of  the 
gospel,  and  that  very  light  will  again  shine  upon  him 
in  heaven.  The  blossom  which  withered  here  upon 
its  stalk,  has  been  transplanted  there  to  a  place  of  en- 
durance ;  and  there  it  will  then  gladden  that  eye  which 
now  weeps  out  the  agony  of  an  affection  that  has  been 
Borely  wounded  ;  and  in  the  name  of  Him  who,  if  on 
earth,  would  have  wept  along  with  them,  do  we  bid  all 
believers  present,  to  sorrow  not  even  as  others  which 
have  no  hope,  but  to  take  comfort  in  the  thought  of  that 
QDuntry  where  there  is  no  sorrow  and  no  separation. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS      167 

Oh  !  when  a  mother  meets  on  high, 
The  babe  she  lost  in  infancy  ; 
Hath  she  not  then  for  pains  and  fears, 
The  day  of  woe,  the  watchful  night, 
For  all  her  sorrow,  all  her  tears, 
An  over  payment  of  delight  ? 


THE  VIEWS  OF  A  TROUBLED  FATHER  OF  MANY  CHIL- 
DREN, AND  A  SELF-CONDEMNED  CHRISTIAN: 

IN  A  LETTER  TO  THE  AUTHOR. 

But,  as  if  to  show  the  nothingness  of  human  ap- 
plause— in  the  midst  of  our  brightest  and  happiest 
hours,  there  comes  one  of  those  alarming  and  unexpect- 
ed strokes  of  providence,  to  embitter  even  the  short  pe- 
riod allotted  to  us  for  enjoyment — the  season  of  youth. 
It  is  only  for  a  few  years,  when  our  first-born  children 
begin  to  articulate  the  name  of  father,  and  to  hang 
around  us,  with  all  that  ardour  of  filial  affection,  and  to 
wait  for  an  approving  smile,  or  a  fond  caress.,  that  we 
experience  the  blessing  without  alloy,  of  having  chil- 
dren. Bye  and  bye,  they  begin  to  love  to  wander  ;  and 
the  bustle  of  life — the  studies  of  school — and  the  natu- 
ral disposition  for  play — take  off  their  attention  from  pa- 
rents, and  from  home,  and  except  during  the  few  short 
moments  of  meals,  our  children  are  no  more  seen  by 
us  than  entire  strangers.  Every  succeeding  year  in- 
creases the  distance,  and  anxieties  like  a  wild  deluge 
burst  upon  us,  so  that  we  are  frequently  tempted  to 
.wish  that  responsibilities  so  heavy  had  not  been  laid 
jiipon  us.  Such  have  been  my  feelings  for  the  last 
/^seven  years,  and  I  state  them  in  order  to  comfort  you 
under  the  late  severe  bereavements.  These  considera- 
tions may  have  some  weight  with  youy  but  what  can 


168  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

be  said  to  relieve  a  mother's  anguish  ?  In  her  heart  is 
inflicted  a  festering  wound,  which  nothing  earthly  can 
heal.  But,  blessed  be  God,  there  is  consolation  to  be 
drawn  from  a  higher  source.  God  is  our  refuge,  and 
our  strength  ;  a  very  present  help  in  the  time  of  trou- 
ble, and  he  doth  not  aflSict  willingly,  or  grieve  the  chil- 
dren of  men.  He  gives,  and  when  he  takes  away,  he 
takes  but  what  he  gave  ;  he  can  give  the  oil  of  joy  for 
mourning,  and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of 
heaviness.  When  our  children  are  removed  in  infancy, 
we  know,  who  have  endured  the  storms  of  life,  from 
how  many  they  have  been  sheltered  within  the  bosom 
of  their  father  and  their  God.  If  the  dear  Saviour, 
when  on  earth,  took  them  up  in  his  arms  and  blessed 
them,  with  w^hat  joy  will  they  not  be  received  into  the 
land  of  pure  delight,  washed  and  made  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb. 

These  must  be  part,  and  the  greater  part  of  that  in- 
numerable throng  who  surround  the  throne  ;  else  heav- 
en would  not  be  peopled  with  inhabitants,  for  I  really 
believe  few  of  those  who  have  long  dwelt  on  earth,  are 
fitted  to  enter  there — few  are  chosen.  Sin  gains  strong- 
er and  stronger  dominion  every  year ;  and  love  for  di- 
vine things,  or  real  joy  in  believing,  becomes  less  and 
less  ;  and  the  troubles  of  life  nearly  drown  the  fire  of 
celestial  love  that  once  glowed  in  the  heart. 

And  so  I  find  it  to  be  in  others,  the  older  they  grow — 
therefore,  there  are  few  that  be  saved  unless  as  by  fire. 
How  merciful,  and  how  kind  is  it,  therefore,  in  early 
years,  for  the  good  Shepherd  to  snatch  his  young  lambs 
from  the  jaws  of  the  wolf,  the  temptations  of  a  wicked 
world,  and  a  growingly  wicked  heart ;  from  the  cold 
blasts  of  wintry  adversity,  to  those  blissful  regions,  where 
the  sun  shall  no  more  go  down,  nor  the  moon  withdraw 
herself ;  where  He^  who  is  on  the  throne,  shall  be  their 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  169 

everlasting  light,  and  their  days  of  mourning  shall  be 
ended.  Will  you  accept  these  few  poor  imperfect 
thoughts  on  this  melancholy  subject,  as  the  best  that 
have  suggested  themselves  to  me  ?  I  know  you  and 
your  wife  avail  yourselves  of  all  that  comfort  which  is 
derived  from  daily  application  at  the  throne  of  grace, 
and  there  alone  can  you  expect  to  receive  peace  to  your 
troubled  minds  ;  and  there  I  leave  you.  My  trials  have 
been  heavy  and  severe,  but  of  a  different  kind,  and  I 
see  no  release  from  them  in  this  world.  To  whichso- 
ever side  I  turn,  all  looks  black,  and  gloomy,  and  cheer- 
less, and  I  feel  yet  as  the  dove  who  flew  from  the  Ark, 
but  could  find  no  place  that  was  not  covered  with  the 
w^aters  whose  angry  billows  had  swept  away  every 
thing  lovely  in  creation,  and  left  nothing  for  the  eye 
to  rest  upon  but  chaos.  Such  is  my  present  prospect. 
I  could  wish  at  the  close  of  the  year  to  dwell  on  more 
joyous  scenes,  but  I  cannot.  May  God  of  his  infinite 
mercy  sanctify  to  us  the  bereavements  and  changes  of 
this  eventful  year,  and  prepare  us  for  whatever  is  his  will 
in  the  new  one  that  is  approaching.  And  though  the 
fig-tree  should  not  blossom,  nor  any  fruit  be  found  on 
the  vine,  and  the  flocks  should  be  cut  off  from  the  stall, 
yet  may  we  rejoice  in  the  God  of  our  salvation.  Come 
and  let  us  return  unto  the  Lord  ;  for  he  hath  torn  and 
he  will  heal  us ;  he  hath  smitten,  and  he  will  bind  us 
up.  After  two  days  he  will  revive  us  ;  in  the  third  day 
he  shall  raise  us  up,  and  we  shall  live  in  his  sight." 


APPEAL  TO  PARENTS  WHO  ARE  NOT  PROFESSORS  OP 
RELIGION. 

Irreligious,  but  bereaved  parents, — after  all,  what 
avails  the  safety  of  the  departed  to  you  ?     While  hope 


160  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

for  your  own  soul  holds  aloof  so  far — while  the  appeals 
of  mercy  are  repeated  in  vain — ^^while  conscience  tells 
so  fully,  and  so  truly,  that  the  offer  of  salvation  has 
ever  been  tendered  in  vain — what  boots  the  rest  1 
What  is  it  to  you  that  the  hope  of  a  glorious  resurrec- 
tion enters  the  dark  and  dank  habitation  of  the  little 
one  ?  You  meet  again  :  but  if  there  be  a  single  feel- 
ing of  horror  above  all  others  to  our  present  conception, 
it  is  that  of  the  ending  of  a  natural  and  social  law,  at 
the  judgment  seat  of  God.  It  is  that  of  a  law  of  af- 
fection availing  nothing.  Your  little  one  became  the 
property  of  Jesus — not  by  virtue  of  any  prayer  of  faith 
that  1/ou  had  uttered — not  by  a  free-will  offering  that 
you  had  made — but  by  that  blood  of  atonement  you 
have  thrust  so  often  from  you — by  that  distinguishing 
grace  whose  attractions  were  too  faint  for  your  eye. 

Yet  you  have  watched  by  the  bed  of  the  departing 
spirit  of  infancy  ;  and  you  have  caught  the  last  sigh, 
as  the  soul  winged  its  passage  from  earth.  And  even 
the  loneliness  of  that  sad  moment  seemed  broken  by 
an  admonition — "  Father  !" — "  Mother  !" — "  come 
AWAY  !"  You  heard — you  thought — eternity  neared 
— earth  interposed — and  you  returned  to  its  bosom* 
again. 

Impenitent,  but  bereaved  parent ! — When  a  future 
world,  in  some  hour  of  reflection,  flings  its  shadow  over 
your  path ;  and,  despite  of  all  your  efforts,  presses  its 
realities  upon  your  attention,  remember — that  no  bond 
of  parental  love  may  abide  hereafter,  when  the  frown 
of  an  offended  God  settles  the  destiny  of  the  lost,  and 
the  only  relationship  that  exists,  is  that  of  the  family 
of  Christ. 

If  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Saviour  were  too  little 
engaging  to  win  your  admiration- — if  the  worth  of 
yotar  oyn  foul  has  not  entered  into  your  thoughts  erf 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  161 

th«  future — behold  what  an  argument  is  furnished  by 
an  afflictive  dispensation !  You  loved  the  departed. 
To  that  very  affection  a  most  solemn  providence  of 
God  has  appealed.  It  bids  you  gaze  from  earth  to 
Heaven.  It  reminds  you  of  the  abode  of  glorified 
spirits.  It  admonishes  you  to  inquire,  "  am  I  also 
ready  ?"  It  intimates  most  earnestly  and  clearly,  that 
the  only  true  consolation  which  ever  succeeds  the  stroke 
of  sorrow,  must  be  connected  v/ith  a  reconcihation  to 
God,  and  an  humble  hope  in  the  Redeemer's  blood. 
Let  these  be  yours,  and  your  peace  will  be  independent 
of  the  precarious  tenure  of  human  life.  Faith  shall 
scatter  the  darkness,  and  explain  the  mystery,  so  rea- 
dily attendant  on  affliction.  You  shall  look  up  from 
the  tomb  to  the  late  object  of  your  solicitude  and  care 
You  shall  exclaim  with  a  confidence  sure  and  steadfast, 
— "  though  he  shall  not  return  to  me" — "  I  shall  go 


TO  HIM  ! 


I" 


Have  any  of  you  lost  children  who  are  not  your- 
selves pious?  The  mind  of  each  of  those  children 
has  been  unfolding  in  heaven,  and  has  probably  grown 
fester  than  if  on  earth.  It  has  been  made  acquainted 
with  its  relation  to  you,  and  perhaps  it  watches  every 
soul  that  comes  up  from  earth  to  heaven,  to  greet  its 
father  or  mother.  Soon  you  must  appear  at  the  bar 
of  God.  You  may  there  have  an  interview  with  your 
child ;  and  suppose  that  you  are  there  separated  from 
that  spirit  who  has  been  growing  in  the  knowledge  of 
God  and  of  the  universe,  anticipating  the  delightful 
employment  of  telHng  you  about  heaven,  and  leading 
you  among  its  glorified  society,  and  along  its  celestial 
plains ! 

Perhaps  you  have  a  Httle  family  there,  expecting 
14* 


]62      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

your  arrival.  Can  you  bear  the  thought  of  being  sep- 
arated from  them  in  eternity  ? 

Are  you  an  impenitent  parent  7  and  have  you  im- 
penitent children  who  are  growing  up  without  religion  ? 
and  has  God  taken  away  one  or  more  of  your  children 
in  infancy  or  early  life  ?  Perhaps  it  was  because  He 
saw  that  your  example  or  neglect  would  ruin  all  the 
family,  if  they  lived  to  grow  up,  and  He  has  therefore 
rescued  some  of  them  from  destruction  by  an  early 
death. 

But  let  the  joy  of  meeting  those  that  have  gone  to 
heaven  excite  you  to  save  your  own  soul  and  the  souls 
of  your  surviving  children.  Then,  though  you  mourn 
over  their  early  graves,  you  shall  not  sorrow  as  they 
that  have  no  hope.  "  Them  that  sleep  in  Jesus  will 
God  bring  with  Him."  Their  early  death  may  prove, 
if  you  are  saved,  a  source  of  the  richest  joy  and  of 
praise  ! 


^^  He  is  7iot  here.''^ 

Not  at  his  grave,  bereaved  mother,  weep ; 
He  is  not  here  ! 

First  wipe  away  each  tear, 
And  faith  shall  show  thy  clearer  eyes 
A  star  to  guide  thee  where  thy  young  child  Hes, 

As  safe  in  heaven,  and  dear 
As  when  thou  smiled'st  on  him  in  his  sleep. 


"  The  sting  of  death  is  sin." 

Mourn  not  o'er  early  graves — for  those 
Removed  whilst  only  buds  are  shown, 

For  God,  who  sow'd  and  watered,  knows 
The  time  to  gather  in  his  own. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  163 

This  blossom  knows  no  winter's  breath 
Sheltered  beneath  the  Almighty  wing ; 

And  though  it  felt  the  stroke  of  death, 
Blest  babe  I  it  never  knew  its  sting. 


"  The  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken^ 

A  CHILD  of  wrath— a  child  of  grace — 

In  Heaven  a  smiling  cherub  now  ! 
And  all  within  a  month's  brief  space : 

Oh,  sweet  and  blessed  babe  !  wert  Thou. 
Sent  but  to  gladden  and  to  grieve  ! 

(Oh,  thus  our  mourning  hearts  rebel !) 
Why  sent — why  taken — we  beli^iTe 

Our  babe,  when  next  we  meet,  shall  tell. 


*  I  shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me. 

While  sickness  rent  thine  infant  frame, 

Before  our  God  we  wept  and  prayed ; 
But  when  his  heavenly  summons  came, 

Fond  nature  struggled,  and  obeyed. 
We  laid  thee  in  thy  early  rest, 

And  changed  the  burden  of  our  pray'r : 
May  he  who  took  thee  to  the  blest. 

But  make  thee  our  forerunner  there  I 


Not  for  the  babe  that  sleepeth  here 
My  tears  bestow,  my  sorrows  give, — 

Pass  on,  and  weep  with  grief  sincere 
For  those  who  innocence  outlive. 


"  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son,  whom  thou  lovest.^ 

If  of  our  best  and  dearest  God  demands, 

We  yield  the  grave,  with  unreluctant  hands, 

Our  best  and  dearest,  striving  to  submit 

To  any  sacrifice  which  he  deems  fit — 

He  will  forgive  the  tears — reversed  our  doom — 

Since  weeping  parents  build  their  children's  tomb. 


164      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 


It  is  well  with  the  child. 

It  is  well ! — nor  would  we  our  babe  recall, 
And  soothing  and  sweet  are  the  tears  that  fall ; — 
But  a  few  brief  pangs  on  his  mother's  breast, 
And  we  laid  him  down  in  his  holy  rest ; 
Ere  the  world  its  snares  around  him  threw, — 
Or  its  sins  and  its  cares  he  ever  knew. 

It  is  well !  since  the  Saviour's  word  is  given, 
That  of  such  as  our  child  is  the  host  of  heaven ! 
No  struggle  for  him, — no  doubts  or  fears. 
His  young  cheek  spared  repentant  tears. 
It  is  well !  and  we  "  bear"  and  adore  "  the  rod," 
For  the  wielding  hand  was  the  hand  of  God. 


^^  Let  him  do  what  seemeth  Him  good.^^ 

Instincts,  affections,  must  lie  still — 
In  meek  obedience  to  God's  will. 
Oh,  give  me  children  or  I  die. 

Impatient  Rachel  sighed : 
Granted,  but  punished,  was  the  cry — 

She  travailed  and  she  died. 


"  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven" 

Thou  purified  for  heaven,  oh,  say — 
Shall  we  thy  early  death  deplore  ? 

No,  let  us  rather  bless  the  day 
That  gave  to  God  an  angel  more. 


"  Weep  not  for  me^  but  for  yourselves?^ 

Much  as  we  loved  thee — to  our  bitter  cost 
Alas,  how  much,  we  knew  not  till  we  lost  !— 

Oh,  say  not  lost !  the  dead  in  Jesus  sleep ; 
And  not  for  them,  but  for  ourselves,  we  weep. 


CHAPTER  VII 


SHORTER    SELECTIONS   IN    PROSE. 


Flowers,  nourish'd  by  my  tears,  I  wreath  for  you, — 
Sweet,  stainless  flowers : 

Come  lay  them  on  your  heart, 
Their  cool,  damp  leaves  will  lull  its  fever  pulse, 
With  balm  from  heaven. 

L.  H.  SiGOURNET. 


In  the  hoiu-  of  grief  the  mind  may  not  be  able  to  fol- 
low the  train  of  argument  by  which  the  doctrine  of  the 
salvation  of  infants,  dying  such,  is  estabhshed.  To  ac- 
commodate this  little  monitor  to  the  situation  of  those 
whom  it  addresses,  a  number  of  detached  thoughts  are 
added,  which,  hke  stars,  may  throw  their  twinkling 
radiance  over  the  gloom  of  sorrow,  and  irradiate  its 
darkness  by  their  heavenly  consolation. 


GOD  IS  NOT  DEAD. 

There  lived  in  the  east  of  Scotland,  a  pious  clergy- 
man, who  had  presided  for  a  number  of  years,  over  a 
small  but  respectable  congregation.  In  the  midst  of 
his  active  career  of  usefulness,  he  was  suddenly  remo- 
ved by  death,  leaving  behind  him  a  wife  and  a  number 
of  helpless  children. 

The  small  stipend  allowed  him  by  his  congregation, 
had  been  barely  sufficient  to  meet  the  current  expenses 
of  his  family  ;  and  at  his  death  no  visible  means  were 
left  for  their  support.     The  death  of  her  husband  prey- 


166  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

ed  deeply  upon  the  heart  of  the  poor  afflicted  widow, 
while  the  dark  prospect  which  the  future  presented,  fill- 
ed her  mind  with  the  most  gloomy  apprehensions.  By 
her  lonely  fireside  she  sat — the  morning  after  her  sad 
bereavement — lamenting  her  forlorn  and  destitute  con- 
dition, when  her  little  son,  a  boy  of  five  years  of  age, 
entered  the  room.  Seeing  the  deep  distress  of  his  moth- 
er, he  stole  softly  to  her  side,  and  placing  his  little  hand 
in  hers,  looked  wistfully  into  her  face,  and  said  :  "  Moth- 
er, mother,  is  God  dead  ?"  Soft  as  the  gentle  whisper 
of  an  angel,  did  the  simple  accent  of  the  dear  boy  fall 
upon  the  ear  of  the  disconsolate,  and  almost  heart  bro- 
ken mother.  A  gleam  of  heavenly  radiance  lighted  up, 
for  a  moment,  her  pale  features.  Then  snatching  up 
her  httle  boy,  and  pressing  him  fondly  to  her  bosom, 
she  exclaimed  :  "  No,  no,  my  son,  God  is  not  dead  ;  he 
lives,  and  has  promised  to  be  a  father  to  the  fatherless, 
a  husband  to  the  widow.  His  promises  are  sure  and 
steadfast,  and  upon  them  I  will  firmly  and  implicitly 
rely."  Her  tears  Avere  dried,  and  her  murmurings  for- 
ever hushed.  The  event  proved  that  her  confidence 
was  not  misplaced.  The  congregation  over  whom  her 
husband  had  worthily  presided,  generously  settled  upon 
her  a  handsome  annuity,  by  which  she  was  enabled  to 
support  her  family,  not  only  comfortably,  but  even  gen- 
teelly. The  talents  of  her  sons,  as  they  advanced  in 
years,  soon  brought  them  into  notice,  and  finally  pro- 
cured them  high  and  honourable  stations  in  society. 


Your  child,  though  dead,  is  still,  bereaved  parents, 
yours.  "  God  has  given  me  three  sons,"  writes  the  Rev. 
Oliver  Heywood  in  his  meditations,  "  all  living,  only 
the  youngest  lives  with  God,  in  his  immediate  presence, 
having  died  in  infancy  under  the  covenant."* 

•  Works,  Vol.  i.  p.  207. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  167 

"  Infants  are  as  capable  of  regeneration  as  grown 
persons,  and  there  is  abundant  reason  to  conclude,  that 
all  those  who  have  not  hved  to  commit  actual  transac- 
tions, though  they  share  in  the  effects  of  the  first 
Adam's  offence,  will  also  share  in  the  blessings  of  the 
second  Adam's  gracious  covenant,  without  their  per- 
sonal faith  and  obedience,  but  not  without  the  regener- 
ating influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  their  souls."* 


Tf  the  salvation  of  infants  were  pleaded  for,  on  the 
ground  of  something  meritorious  in  ihem^  or  even  on  the 
ground  of  what  is  called  negative  goodness,  then  there 
were  just  ground  for  objection  ;  but  on  no  such  princi- 
ple is  the  argument  here  rested.  It  is  only  pleaded,  that 
the  Scriptures  have  distinguished  between  those  of  the 
human  race,  who  have  sinned  after  the  similitude  of 
Adam's  transgression,  and  those  who  have  not, — that 
God,  of  his  abundant  goodness,  has  extended  to  the 
whole  of  the  latter  the  blessings  of  redemption,  and  that 
He  has  commanded  the  gospel  to  be  preached  to  the 
former,  and  has  declared,  that  whosoever  believeth  it 
shall  be  saved,  and  whosoever  believeth  not  shall 
be  condemned.  The  distinction  between  relative  and 
personal  blame,  is  not  introduced  to  show,  that  in- 
fants who  are  involved  only  in  the  former,  have  a  right 
to  salvation,  but  to  show  that  there  is  an  analogy  be- 
tween the  way  in  which  men  came  to  be  treated  as  sin- 
ners, and  that  in  which  they  came  to  be  treated  as 
righteous,  and  to  explain  the  principles  of  the  present 
dispensation,  both  as  an  economy  of  moral  government, 
and  an  economy  of  Sovereign  goodness, — the  former 
accounting  for  the  principles  on  which  adults  shall  at 
last  be  judged,  and  the  latter  communicating  grace  to 

•  Scott,  on  Matt.  xix.  13—15. 


168  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

all  who  never  were  the  subjects  of  the  other.  And  if, 
for  reasons  worthy  of  himself,  the  Almighty  has  deter- 
mined that  all  dying  in  infancy  shall  be  saved,  what  is 
this  dispensation  bat  a  part  of  the  general  plan  of  re- 
demption, through  unmerited  and  Sovereign  favour? 
Never  can  a  dispensation  designed  to  illustrate  His 
grace,  be  in  the  least  inconsistent  with  that  very  attri- 
bute. 


Hear  a  Christian  say  after  burying  his  child,  ''  And 
now  one  of  our  family  is  gone  to  take  possession  of  the 
sepulchre  in  all  our  names.  Ere  long  I  shall  lie  down 
with  my  child. — It  is  a  warning  of  Providence,  that 
these  concluding  days  of  my  life  may  be  more  regular, 
more  spiritual,  more  useful,  than  the  former." 


"  The  hope  of  their  being  transplanted  into  a  more 
salutary  clime,  there  to  rebloom  in  everlasting  vigour  ; 
and  the  reflection,  that  if  they  had  been  spared,  they 
had  been  unavoidably  exposed  to  innumerable  tempta- 
tions, from  which,  if  our  lives  were  spared,  we  should 
yet  be  unable  to  screen  them,  ought  to  settle  our 
minds." 

Yes,  there  is  a  pleasure  in  seeing  them  safe  before  us, 
instead  of  leaving  them  exposed  to  temptation  and  sin. 


THE  INFANT'S  GRAVE. 

The  wife  of  tlie  missionary,  who  came  home  last 
spring,  brought  with  her  from  the  foreign  country 
where  she  had  been  long  a  sojourner,  three  noble  boys. 
But  they  were  not  all  her  children.  Her  youngest  was 
not  with  her.  Did  he  sleep,  then,  under  the  stately 
mimosa,  or  the  beautiful  palm-tree — beneath  the  sha- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  169 

dow  of  the  church  raised  to  the  name  of  the  Christianas 
God  in  the  land  of  Idols?  There,  perhaps,  his  swar- 
thy nurse  sits  on  his  grave,  and  tells  how  the  gentle 
white  lady  devoted  her  child  to  her  Saviour  in  baptism, 
and  found  comfort  when  he  died,  and  how  she,  poor 
heathen  as  she  had  been,  had  learnt  submission  from 
the  Christian's  book  ;  and  now,  having  faith  in  Christ, 
lived  in  the  calm  hope  of  meeting  again  those  her  kind 
instructors,  and  that  her  foster-son.  No  !  the  mission- 
ary's child  is  not  buried  there ;  he  died  on  the  voyage 
home ;  he  was  buried  in  the  deep  sea  ;  so  neither  nurse 
nor  mother  may  look  upon  his  grave ;  but  his  Uttle  cof- 
fin was  made  as  neatly  as  circumstances  permitted,  and 
the  ceremony  of  his  funeral  was  conducted  with  all 
that  attention  to  order  and  propriety  which  it  is  the  last 
comfort  of  our  survivors  to  pay.  All  the  children,  and 
there  were  many  on  board,  beside  his  own  little  bro- 
thers, went  on  deck,  and  stood  round  the  corpse  whilst 
the  beautiful  service  was  read  ;  and  it  was  solemnly 
and  affectionately  read,  by  the  beloved  friend  and  fel- 
low-labourer, who  had  been  a  stranger  with  them  in 
the  strange  land.  It  was  sad  to  be  obliged  to  take  the 
last  look  at  the  dear  child,  even  before  ''  the  first  day 
of  djeath  was  fled."  There  was  something  inexpres- 
sibly melancholy  in  the  plunge  with  which  the  lost 
treasure  sunk  down,  deeper  and  deeper,  to  the  depths 
which  no  line  has  sounded  !  and  the  waves  rolled  on, 
and  the  gallant  ship  hastened  on  her  course,  so  that 
the  eye  of  man  might  never  again  know  the  place  of 
his  rest.  But  "  thou.  Lord,  art  the  hope  of  them  that 
remain  in  the  broad  sea !"  So  thought  his  mother 
while  she  wept  in  silence ;  but  she  looked  for  the  resur- 
rection of  the  body,  when  the  sea  shall  give  up  her 
dead,  and  she  was  calm. — Scenes  in  our  Parish. 

15 


170  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

If  it  has  seemed  meet  to  God,  that  the  allotted  three 
score  years  and  ten  should  be  spent  rather  in  heaven 
than  on  earth,  is  there  any  reason  for  inconsolable  an- 
guish ?  Our  departed  infants  have  attained  the  end 
of  their  creation,  so  that  there  is  no  reason  for  saying, 
<«  Why  were  they  brought  forth  for  the  tomb  ?"  How 
animating  the  thought,  that  those  powers  which  were 
but  beginning  to  unfold  themselves,  are  now  expanding, 
and  employed  amid  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  par- 
adise. 


While  the  Christian  parent  is  consoled  by  the 
thought,  that  his  departed  children  have  been  washed 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb ;  he  rejoices  also  in  the  faith, 
that  the  same  blood  can  cleanse  away  all  his  own  man- 
ifold and  aggravated  sins.  Are  not  irreligious  parents, 
then,  solemnly  admonished  by  what  is  said  of  their 
deceased  infant  offspring,  to  seek  deUverance  through 
the  same  atonement  and  resurrection,  which  have 
opened  to  the  latter  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  What  a 
mercy,  if  the  death  of  the  child  prove  the  hfe  of  the 
parent ;  by  leading  the  latter  to  seek  for  consolation, 
where  alone  it  can  be  had.  And,  oh  !  what  a  blessing, 
when,  after  wearying  themselves  seeking  rest,  and'find- 
ing  none,  the  eyes  of  the  unhappy  are  opened  to  perceive 
the  well  of  life,  and  their  ears  to  hear  the  melodious 
sounds  of  that  message,  which  cahns  the  alarm  occa- 
sioned by  guilt,  and  soothes  the  sorrows  of  the  afflicted 
sufferer.  It  is  the  Gospel  alone  which  at  once  brings 
us  to  God,  and,  as  it  were,  restores  to  us  our  friends. 

How  dreadful  the  thought,  when  properly  reahzed, 
that  if  bereaved,  unbelieving  parents  continue  strangers 
to  the  power  of  the  Gospel,  they  and  their  children  are 
separated  for  ever, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  171 


THE  BEREAVED  MOTHER. 

"  A  mother's  sorrow  cannot  be  conceived  but  by  a  mother." 

Hannah  More. 

I  MARKED  a  mother  at  the  tomb  of  her  son.  Her  sa- 
ble garment  coincided  with  the  deep  gloom  that  hung 
heavily  around  her  heart.  Her  declining  head,  her 
closed  clasped  hands,  her  fixed  position,  her  tear-be- 
^ewed  cheek,  bespoke  the  intensity  of  her  thoughts, 
and  the  sorrow  of  her  soul.  The  scene  struck  the 
strings  of  sympathy,  and  a  correspondent  tear,  flowing 
from  the  impulse  of  a  similar  feeling,  trickled  down  my 
cheek. — Fancy  lent  her  creative  power  to  my  mind,  and 
methought  I  heard  and  felt  the  grief-inspired  soliloquy 
of  the  heart-broken  mother,  as  she  revolved  in  her  de- 
pressed mind  the  following  thoughts  :  "  Ah  !  yes,  my 
child,  thou  art  numbered  with  the  dead  ! — The  curtain 
of  my  hopes  has  suddenly  dropped,  and  the  thick  cloud 
of  soul-rending  despondency  shuts  the  light  of  joy  and 
tranquillity  from  my  mind.  When  feeble  infancy  was 
thine,  with  what  rapture  I  watched  the  pleasurable 
smile  playing  on  thy  health-flushed  cheeks:  it  was 
then  my  heart  bounded  with  ecstacy,  and  antedated 
the  joys  of  youth  and  the  happiness  of  manhood.  I 
thought  thou  wouldst  have  been  the  pillar  of  my  old 
age  ;  I  thought  thou  wouldst  have  supported  my  tot- 
tering decUning  life,  when  the  extinguished  hand  of 
time  had  quenched  the  fervour  of  vitality.  But  ah  ! 
these  love-built  hopes  are  gone  for  ever ;  they  are  bu- 
ried in  the  humid  earth  with  thee.  No  more  I  hear  thy 
voice — no  more  I  mark  thy  sprightly  eye  ;  thy  voice  is 
as  silent  as  the  grave,  and  thine  eye  fixed  by  the  rigid 
power  of  death.  Scarce  more  than  eighteen  months 
had  rolled  around  thy  head  before  the  "  grim  monster'* 
came  and  snatched  thee  from  the  world.     Thou  wert 


172      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

stricken  as  the  tender  sapling  scathed  by  the  Hght- 
ning's  fiery  bolt.  O  Death  !  thou  art  the  destroyer  of  a 
mother's  bliss.  But  still,  amid  all  my  sorrow,  I  will 
say, 

"  Worms  may  banquet  on  that  frame, 

And  ruin  feed  on  what  was  fair : 
Back  to  the  skies  from  whence  it  came 

The  soul  recalled  shall  flourish  there." 

With  these  words  she  ended ;  and  taking  her  little 
daughter  by  the  hand,  she  slowly  retired.* 


Suppose,  now,  there  should  be  a  mother,  always 
uneasy  and  sohcitous  about  her  child,  when  it  was  in 
health,  or  sitting  over  it  when  in  sickness,  restless  and 
anxious,  trying  this  remedy,  and  that,  without  reason 
and  without  hope,  just  because  she  cannot  give  him  up; 
— suppose,  I  say,  that  God  should  come  to  the  bedside, 
and  say  to  her,  "  Anxious  mother, — I  was  taking  care 
of  your  child,  but  since  you  are  so  restless  and  uneasy 
about  it,  I  will  give  the  case  up  to  you,  if  you  will  take 
it.  There  is  a  great  question  to  be  decided ; — shall 
that  child  recover  or  die  ?  I  was  going  to  decide  it  in 
the  best  way  for  yourself  and  him.  But  since  you 
cannot  trust  me,  you  may  decide  it  yourself  Look 
upon  him,  then,  as  he  lies  there  suflfering,  and  then 
look  forward  as  far  as  you  can  into  futurity ;  see  as 
much  as  you  can  of  his  life  here,  if  you  allow  him  to 
live  ;  and  look  forward  to  eternity, — to  his  eternity  and 
yours.  Get  all  the  light  you  can,  and  then  tell  me 
whether  you  are  really  ready  to  take  the  responsibility 
of  deciding  the  question,  whether  he  shall  live  or  die. 
Since  you  are  not  willing  to  allow  me  to  decide  it,  I 
will  leave  you  to  decide  it  yourself" 

«  Influeiipp  of  Mothers,  p.  132. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  173 

What  would  be  ihe  feelings  of  a  mother,  if  God 
should  thus  withdraw  from  the  sick  bed  of  her  child, 
and  leave  the  responsibility  of  the  case  in  her  hands 
alone  !  Who  would  dare  to  exercise  the  power,  if  the 
power  were  given,  or  say  to  a  dying  child,  "  you  shall 
live  and  on  me  shall  be  the  responsibility?"  Then  let 
us  all  leave  to  God  to  decide.  Let  us  be  wise  and  pru- 
dent, and  faithful  in  all  our  duties,  but  never,  for  a 
moment,  indulge  in  an  anxious  thought ; — it  is  rebel- 
lion. Let  us  rather  throw  ourselves  on  God.  Let  us 
say  to  him,  that  we  do  not  know  what  is  best,  either 
for  us,  or  our  children,  and  ask  him  to  do  with  us  just 
as  he  jjleases.  Then  we  shall  be  at  peace  at  all 
times, — when  disease  makes  its  first  attack, — when 
the  critical  hours  approach,  by  which  the  question  of 
hfe  or  death  is  to  be  decided,  and  even  when  the  last 
night  of  the  httle  patient's  sufferings  has  come,  and  we 
see  the  vital  powers  gradually  sinking,  in  their  fearful 
struggle  with  death.* 


One  day,  whilst  the  lady  of  Sir  Stamford  Raffles 
was  almost  overwhelmed  with  grief  for  the  loss  of  a 
favourite  child,  unable  to  bear  the  sight  of  her  other 
children — unable  to  bear  even  the  light  of  day — hum- 
bled upon  her  couch,  with  a  feeling  of  misery  ;  she  was 
addressed  by  a  poor,  ignorant,  uninstructed,  native 
woman,  of  the  lowest  class,  who  had  been  employed 
about  the  nursery,  in  terms  of  reproach  not  to  be  for- 
gotten. "  I  am  come  because  you  have  been  here 
many  days  shut  up  in  a  dark  room,  and  no  one  dares 
to  come  near  you.  Are  you  not  ashamed  to  grieve  in 
this  manner,  when  you  ought  to  be  thanking  God  for 

*  Abbott's  "  Way  to  do  good,"  p.  108, 
IK* 


174      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

having  given  you  the  most  beautiful  child  that  ever 
was  seen  ?  Did  any  one  ever  see  him,  or  speak  of  him 
without  admiring  him  ?  And  instead  of  letting  this 
child  continue  in  this  world  till  he  should  be  worn  out 
with  trouble  and  sorrow,  has  not  God  taken  him  to 
Heaven  in  all  his  beauty?  What  would  you  have 
more  ?  For  shame  ! — leave  off  weeping,  and  let  me 
open  a  window." 


We  may  lament  as  an  incurable  evil,  what  God 
may  esteem  an  invaluable  good.  Hence  we  may 
labour  to  defeat  an  event,  to  accomplish  which,  all  the 
attributes  of  Omnipotence  are  embarked.  Our  prayers 
and  energies  may  be  excited  to  agony  in  warding  off  a 
storm,  which,  it  is  his  purpose,  shall  come  down  upon 
us  in  all  its  fury.  We  watch  at  the  couch  of  a  lan- 
guishing child  ;  our  life  is  bound  up  in  his ;  if  it  die,  it 
seems  to  us  that  God  must  design  to  undo  us ;  and  yet, 
perhaps,  that  child  was  given  us  that  it  might  die  in 
our  arms,  and  be  the  means  of  our  sanctification.* 


A  HEATHEN  FATHER  AND  HIS  CHILD. 

Shagdur,  a  convert  among  the  Moguls  in  Siberia, 
having  lost  his  Uttle  son,  addressed  the  following  letter 
to  Mr.  Swan  the  Missionary : 

My  Dear  Sir, — While  you  and  I  are,  by  the  mer- 
ciful providence  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  alive  and  in 
health,  I  desire  to  lay  one  little  matter  before  you.  It 
pleased  God  to  give  me  a  little  son  •,  and  it  has  now 
pleased  him  to  remove  the  child  from  me.  Every  day 
I  think  that  one  member  of  my  body  has  been  taken 

#  Clark's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  298. 


eOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      175 

to  heaven  ;  and  this  thought  is  like  a  sweet  savour  in 
my  heart.  And  when  I  think  of  my  dear  child  as 
one  of  the  countless  assembly  who  are  singing  the 
praises  of  Christ  in  heaven,  my  heart  longs  to  go  up 
and  join  them :  but  although  the  child,  a  part  of  my- 
self, is  separated  from  me,  I  hope,  through  my  Sav- 
iour's power  and  mercy,  one  day  to  meet  him  in  glory. 

Now,  sir,  when  my  little  William  was  born,  the 
neighbours  came  in,  bearing  to  him  gifts ;  some  gave 
one  copeck,  (about  one  tenth  of  a  penny;)  some  two; 
in  all,  forty  copecks.  When  the  child  died,  I  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  this  money ;  but,  at  length,  a 
thought  came  to  me,  which  gave  joy  to  my  heart ;  and 
about  this  I  write  these  few  lines.  • 

Among  the  many  letters  wliich  go  to  make  up  the 
words  contained  in  the  New  Testament,  printed  for  the 
instruction  of  the  heathen  nations,  Tonilgaksha*  is 
often  repeated.  Now,  although  these  forty  copecks 
may  not  be  sufficient  for  more  than  the  dot  over  the 
letter  i,  in  the  word  Tonilgakshi,  I  beg  of  you  to  ac- 
cept of  my  little  William's  money  for  that  purpose. — 
Dear  Sir,  do  not  refuse  it.  I  have  not  given  it  to  you, 
but  I  have  given  it  to  print  a  dot  over  a  letter  in  the 
name  of  my  Saviour  ;  and  may  this  be  a  little  memo- 
rial of  my  infant,  for  the  benefit  of  my  dear  friends  who 
are  without  Christ.     I  remain  your  scholar, 

ShAGDUR,  THE   SON  OF  KeMUAH. 

Mr.  Swan  makes  good  use  of  this  affecting  inci- 
dent ;  he  writes — 

I  hope  the  foregoing  letter  may  meet  the  eye  of 
many  a  bereaved  parent  to  whom  it  may  not  have  oc- 
curred to  present  to  the  Lord,  in  the  form  of  an  offering 
to  His  Cause,  whatever  belonged  to  some  dear  departed 

<^i.e.  Jesus  Chrirt.  Xi^  ^»^*'^  ^'  ^^-^^  ^' 


176  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

child;  or  whatever  they  had  destined  as  that  child's 
portion,  had  the  Lord  been  pleased  to  continue  it  to 
their  embraces.  And,  perhaps,  the  reading  of  this  sim- 
ple effusion  of  a  heart  but  lately  emerged  from  the  deg- 
radation of  a  heathen  state,  and  which  has  found  a 
sweet  solace  under  its  bereavement  in  devoting  the 
child's  mite  to  the  Lord,  may  induce  some  to  go  and  do 
likewise.  Some  may  be  able  far  to  surpass  this  offer- 
ing ;  some  parents  may  present,  as  having  belonged  to 
some  dear  departed  infant,  what  may  be  enough  to 
print,  not  merely  the  dots  over  a  letter,  but  the  whole 
of  the  Saviour's  precious  name  in  some  Heathen  lan- 
guage,— others,  a  whole  verse — others,  an  entire  book, 
— otli£rs,  an  edition  of  the  New  Testament,  or  of  the 
whole  Bible. 


STORY  FROM  THE  MISHNA  OF  THE  RABBINS. 

During  the  absence  of  Rabbi  Meir  from  his  house, 
his  two  sons  died,  both  of  them  of  uncommon  beauty 
and  enHghtened  by  the  law.  His  wife  bore  them  to 
her  chamber,  laid  them  upon  the  bed,  and  spread  a 
white  covering  over  their  bodies.  When  Rabbi  Meir 
returned,  his  first  inquiry  was  for  his  sons.  His  wife 
reached  to  him  a  goblet ;  he  praised  the  Lord  at  the 
going  out  of  the  Sabbath,  drank,  and  again  asked, 
"  Where  are  my  sons,  that  they  too  may  drink  of  the 
cup  of  blessing  ?" 

"  They  will  not  be  far  off,"  she  replied,  and  placed 
food  before  him  that  he  might  eat.  He  was  in  a  glad- 
some and  genial  mood  ;  and  when  he  had  said  grace, 
after  the  meal,  she  thus  addressed  him :  "  Rabbi,  with 
thy  permission,  I  would  fain  propose  to  thee  one  ques- 
tion." 

*  Ask  it  then,  my  love,"  replied  he. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      177 

"A  few  days  ago  a  person  entrusted  some  jewels  to 
my  custody,  and  now  he  demands  them  ;  should  I  give 
them  back  to  him  ?" 

"  This  is  a  question,"  said  Rabbi  Meir,  "  which  my 
wife  should  not  have  thought  it  necessary  to  ask. 
What !  would'st  thou  hesitate  or  be  reluctant  to  restore 
to  every  one  his  own  ?" 

"No,"  she  replied,  "  but  yet  I  thought  it  best  not  to 
restore  them  without  acquainting  thee  therewith."  She 
then  led  him  to  their  chamber,  and  stepping  to  the  bed, 
took  the  white  covering  from  the  dead  bodies. 

''  Ah  !  my  sons,  my  sons  !"  loudly  lamented  their 
father,  "  my  sons  !  the  hght  of  my  eyes,  and  the  light 
of  my  understanding.  I  was  your  father — but  ye  were 
my  teachers  in  the  law." 

The  mother  turned  away  and  wept  bitterly.  At 
length,  she  took  the  husband  by  the  hand  and  said, 
"  Rabbi,  did'st  thou  not  teach  me  that  we  must  not  be 
reluctant  to  restore  that  which  was  entrusted  to  our 
keeping  ?  See,  the  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away,  and  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !" 

"  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !"  echoed  the  holy 
man ;  "  and  blessed  be  his  glorious  name  forever." 


A  CHRISTIAN  PARENT'S  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  DEATH 
OF  A  CHILD. 

The  bills  of  mortality  show  that  more  than  half  the 
human  race  die  in  infancy  and  childhood.  As  God 
then  gave  us  five  children,  and  has  now  taken  away 
three,  we  are  not  to  think  ourselves  m.ore  hardly  dealt 
with  than  others  ;  especially  as  these  dear  little  ones 
have  doubtless  entered  upon  a  good  exchange.  There 
is  much  in  the  consideration,  that  so  many  immortal 
human  beings  are  just  shown  to  this  world,  and  so 


178      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

quickly  removed  into  another.  They  are  as  those  plants 
which  are  gathered  and  housed  the  moment  they  are  in 
season  ;  while  others,  who  arrive  at  raaturer  age,  are 
as  the  fewer  plants,  which,  being  left  for  seed,  remain 
longer  out  in  wind  and  weather.  What  pains  one's 
natural  feelings  most  is,  that  we  so  much  miss  the  delight 
that  we  have  enjoyed  in  the  lovely  innocent  ways  of  a  thri- 
ving child.  But  even  this  is  made  up  for  the  sure  and 
certain  prospect  of  what  is  far  better.  We  do  not  re- 
gret the  fall  of  the  sweet  and  dehghtful  blossoms  of  our 
plants  and  trees,  though  they  soon  drop  off  in  such  mul- 
titudes, because  the  fruit  which  succeeds  is  attended 
with  more  substantial  enjoyment.  Had  we  had  no 
such  child  born  to  us  a  year  ago,  it  is  true  we  should 
not  have  been  in  our  present  sorrow  ;  but  having  attend- 
ed it  this  day  to  its  grave,  we  are  temporarily  in  the 
same  situation  as  if  we  had  never  possessed  it.  And 
yet  we  can  count  it  gain  to  be  able  to  reckon  on  one 
more  child  of  our  own  in  heaven.  It  therefore  was 
neither  "  made  for  naught,"  nor  brought  into  the  world 
in  vain,  nor  has  the  care  we  expended  on  it  been  thrown 
away.  And  now  that  such  care  has  ceased,  and  our 
responsibility  with  it,  we  have  the  more  leisure  to  at- 
tend to  the  one  thing  needful,  and  to  direct  to  this  great 
object,  in  a  more  undivided  manner,  the  attention  of 
our  two  surviving  children. 


THE  GRAVE  OF  MY  CHILD. 

The  sweet  month  has  again  returned — the  first  of 
the  summer  months — which  will  ever  be  remembered 
by  me  as  the  season  when  my  cherished  one  sickened 
and  died.  If  not  a  father,  reader,  you  may  pass  on, 
though  I  should  delight  to  detain  you  near  my  littles 
daughter's  grave  for  a  few  momentsl     But  if  the  pulsed 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  170 

of  parental  love  has  ever  had  vitaUty  in  your  bosom,  I 
need  not  apologize.  My  feelings,  my  sympathies,  my 
joys,  and  sorrows  are  yours.  Two  years  have  n'OW 
elapsed  since  that  day  when  death  first  entered  my 
family.  The  whole  scene  rushes  vividly  before  the 
mind,  showing  how  deep  and  strong  was  the  impression 
then  made.  The  first  attack  of  the  insidious  disease 
— the  promise  of  recovery — then  the  relapse — the  in- 
cessant anxieties — the  unsleeping  vigils — the  anguish 
of  the  helpless  sufferer — her  sweet  submission  to  the 
will  of  God — her  triumph  over  death  and  the  grave — 
in  a  word,  the  succession  of  emotions,  that  like  wave 
after  wave,  swept  across  our  bosoms,  \vhile  life  hung  in 
fearful  uncertainty,  all  these  are  engraven  as  with  the 
point  of  a  diamond  on  the  table  of  the  memory.  Nor 
would  we  erase  them.  It  is  not  a  mere  dream  of  the 
poet's  imagination,  that  there  is  "  luxury  in  grief." 
This  idea  is  true  to  nature.  Not,  indeed,  that  the  pain 
is  not  intense,  when  those  chords  of  the  heart  are  struck, 
which  are  the  very  seat  of  the  most  exquisite  sensibili- 
ty, but  that  pain  is  mellowed  and  hallowed  by  some 
mysterious  influence,  flowing  from  the  inexhaustible 
fountain  of  infinite  benevolence.  The  heart  Hngers  too 
much  round  these  visible  scenes.  "  She  goeth  to  the 
grave  to  weep  there."  Oh,  why  did  she  not  look  up  7 
Contemplations  that  are  bounded  only  by  the  limits  of 
tbe  grave  are  less  fitted  to  minister  consolation  to  zifflio 
tion,  than  nutriment  to  sorrow,  even  that  "sorrow  of 
the  world  that  worketh  death."  If  the  soul,  in  the  tu- 
mult of  its  grief,  Avill  but  pause  a  moment,  and  hsten,  it 
will  soon  hear  a  voice  saying,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the  Life.  He  that  beUeveth  in  me,  though  he 
were  dead,  yet  shall  he  Hve,  and  he  that  liveth  and  be* 
lieveth  in  me,  shall  never  die."  This  changes  the  ett-' 
tire  scene.    It  is  no  more  sight y  but  faith*    What  * 


180        .      SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

world  of  wonders  does  faith  unfold  to  the  view  !  Now^ 
we  can  see  the  ransomed  spirit,  not  as  it  is  oppressed 
with  doubt  and  agonized  with  suffering,  but  spreading 
the  unclogged  wings  of  its  Love,  and  expatiating  with 
rapture  amid  scenes  of  heavenly  beauty  and  songs  of 
seraphic  melody.  Who  would  be  so  cruel  as  to  call  that 
spirit  back  again  to  be  soiled  with  the  dust  of  earth  ;  to 
re-endure  its  sorrows ;  to  be  again  endangered  by  its 
fascinations ;  flattered  with  its  illusions ;  distracted 
with  its  cares,  and  deceived  by  its  promises  ?  Is  it  not 
better  for  the  soul  to  find  "  its  long  sought  rest,"  to  be 
disrobed  of  its  earthly  mantle ;  to  enter  the  pure  and 
perfect  society  of  the  blessed ;  to  dwell  where  Holiness 
holds  its  court ;  where  angels  tune  their  harps  ;  where 
the  redeemed  swell  the  high  anthem  of  praise  to  the 
exalted  Lamb  ;  where  it  will  never  be  interrupted  in 
that  worship,  which  was  the  original  privilege  and  the 
delicious  employment  of  the  soul,  "  created  in  the  image 
of  God  ?" 

REaUIESCAT    IN    PEACE. 

Here  then  is  the  dust  of  my  child.  Let  it  rest  in 
peace.  Many  a  sweet  spring  shall  put  forth  its  blos- 
soms in  sight  of  this  early  grave,  but  my  little  flower 
will  remain  crushed  within  its  dark  bosom.  Many  a 
gay  summer  will  shed  its  beauty  around  the  scene,  and 
the  bright  colours  of  autumn  will  illumine  yonder 
woodlands,  but  in  this  world  my  loved  one  will  never 
smile  again !  Oh  the  inexorable  despotism  of  death ! 
Oh  the  iron-hearted  sovereignty  of  the  grave  !  The 
thought  is  almost  insupportable.  But  again,  Rehgion 
teaches  us  to  lift  our  eyes  from  the  ashes  of  the  dead 
to  the  region  of  pure,  ethereal  existence,  of  spiritual 
love,  of  unsullied  hohness,  and  uninterrupted  happiness. 
Nay,  this  must  be  the  very  object  of  dispensations  like 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  181 

these,  to  summoQ  the  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  its 
superior  good,  and  to  attract  the  heart  towards  the  cen- 
tre of  every  pure  affection  ;  the  supreme  object  of  love 
and  adoration  to  every  holy  being.  Then  let  these 
things  come,  in  their  time.  They  come  not  by  chance. 
Inspiration  eloquently  teaches  us  that  they  "  come  not 
of  the  dust,  nor  spring  out  of  the  ground."  It  tells  us 
that "  life  is  a  vapour."  How  many  parents  can  attest  it ! 

"  She  came  and  passed.     Can  we  forget 
How  we,  whose  hearts  had  hailed  her  birth, 
Ere  four  autumnal  suns  has  set. 
Consigned  her  to  her  mother  Earth  ? 
Joys  and  their  memory  pass  away, 
But  griefs  are  deeper  ploughed  than  they  !" 

Heaven  will  equalize  all !  The  soul  that  breathes  its 
aspiration  for  such  perfection,  can  never  receive  amiss 
what  Heaven  sends. 

A  Father. 


TO  A  BEREAVED  MOTHER. 

"  I  FEEL  for  you,  dear  Madam,  in  the  loss  you  have 
felt ;  but  more  especially,  as  there  appeared  something 
Df  a  doubt,  whether  you  could  say,  with  full  assurance, 
the  child  is  blessed.  I  have  known  several  Christians 
troubled  with  doubts  on  this  head ;  and  few  things 
have  appeared  to  me  more  strange  ;  for,  we  may  say 
with  truth,  what  could  God  have  done  more  than  he 
has  done,  to  prove  his  love  for  the  infants  of  the  hu- 
man race  ?  They  were  always  admitted  to  be  mem- 
bers of  his  Church.  A  regard  for  them,  he  mentions 
as  a  reason  why  Nineveh,  in  which  were  so  many 
thousand  infants,  should  not,  as  Jonah  desired,  be  de- 
stroyed. Our  Lord  says,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  king- 

16 


182      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

dom  of  God."  A  great  part  of  mankind  die  in  infan- 
cy, before  they  have  done  any  good  or  evil;  and  the 
Saviour  declares,  that  of  such  little  children  the  king- 
dom of  God  is  made  up  ;  and  as  a  token  of  this,  he 
took  the  little  children  that  were  brought  him  up  in 
his  arms,  and  blessed  them,  Mark  x.  They  die,  by 
virtue  of  their  connection  with  Adam  in  his  first  trans- 
gression ;  but  having  done  neither  good  nor  evil,  in 
their  own  persons,  they  will  not  be  judged  according  to 
the  deeds  done  in  the  body,  nor  fall  under  the  sentence 
of  the  second  death,  which  is  pronounced  only  upon 
personal  wicked  deeds  ;  but  being  redeemed  by  the 
blood  of  Christ,  and  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life,  they  shall  be  raised  up  from  the  first  death,  which 
came  by  Adam,  to  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  life  in  the 
heavenly  kingdom. — I  repeat  it,  not  a  soul  is  destroyed 
forever,  but  for  wicked  works  ;  they  are  hypocrites, 
they  are  unbelievers,  they  are  impenitent  to  the  last, 
after  warnings,  admonitions,  and  calls,  who  perish. 
But  what  works  have  infants  done  that  are  evil?  The 
Scripture  expressly  mentions,  that  they  have  not  sinned 
after  the  similitude  of  Adam's  transgression,  but  never 
that  they  suffer  the  pains  of  hell.  Now,  can  such  a 
thought  be  reconciled  with  the  character  of  God,  drawn 
by  himself,  as  "slow  to  anger,  and  of  great  kindness  ;" 
as  swearing,  he  hath  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  a  sin- 
ner ?  It  is  his  strange  act  to  punish.  Nothing  but  a 
contention  against  his  government  to  the  last,  an  im- 
pious denial  of  his  Gospel,  or  a  base,  hypocritical  as- 
sent to  it,  draws  down  his  vengeance.  Be  assured, 
fi-om  such  evidence,  our  dear  children,  taken  away  al- 
most as  soon  as  we  see  them,  are  safe  in  the  hands  of 
their  merciful  Creator  and  Redeemer.  I  hope  you  are 
ready  to  say,  with  the  late  excellent  Mr.  Black,  (one  of 
the  ministars  of  Edinburgh^)  who  thus  expressed  him- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  183 

self  on  the  death  of  his  child, — "  It  is  the  Lord,  let 
him  do  what  seemeth  him  good ;  it  is  his  will.  Our 
dear  child  is  now,  1  trust,  with  Christ  in  heaven,  joined 
to  her  kindred  spirits  around  the  throne.  What  a  mar- 
vellous change  ! — what  a  glorious  transition  ! — from  a 
eick-bed  io  a  throne  of  glory  ;  from  weeping  friends  to 
glorified  spirits  ;  from  a  world  of  sin  and  suffering,  to  a 
world  of  perfect  holiness,  and  endless  blessedness  !  How 
inconceivable  the  expansion  of  faculties  that  must  take 
place  in  the  case  of  an  infant,  on  its  first  entrance  into 
the  unseen  world  !  It  is  an  almost  overwhelming 
thought,  that  our  sweet  babe  already  knows  more  than 
the  most  perfect  saint  on  earth.  Let  my  soul  bless 
God,  that  I  have  been  honoured  as  the  instrument  of 
bringing  into  existence  one  who  is  now  added  to  the 
Redeemer's  company  above.  Soon  shall  the  last  trum- 
pet sound,  and  the  sleeping  dust  of  countless  genera- 
tions awake  to  life.  I  shall  then  see  my  dear  child ; 
not  the  feeble  infant  which  she  appeared  on  earth,  but 
a  glorified  saint,  conformed  to  the  image  of  her  blessed 
Lord.     A  glorious  hope  !" 

"  This  consideration,  dear  Madam,  should  dry  up 
your  tears.  Your  child  is  now  with  God,  infinitely 
more  happy  than  you  could  have  made  her  on  earth, — 
infinitely  more  happy  than  you  can  conceive ;  and  if 
you,  and  your  husband,  are  followers  of  them  who, 
by  faith  and  patience,  inherit  the  promises,  and  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  author  and  finisher  of  faith,  you  shall  one 
day  meet  with  her  amidst  the  redeemed  company, 
where  you  shall  never  more  part ;  and  where  "  there 
shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying, 
neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain ;  for  the  former 
things  are  passed  away." — Rev.  xxi.  4.* 

-fesw-i  ^f  *  ^^!  ®*^'  Simpeon  of  Dublin.  ^^^^  j|j 


184  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


TO  PARENTS  BEREAVED  OF  A  CHILD. 

Extract  from  a  Manuscript  Letter  qfthe  Rev.  Mr.  Schuuffler  of  Coti 
stantinople. 

On  the  subject  of  Infant  Salvation,  I  have  no  aouht. 
I  have  had  it  in  view  to  write  something  more  thor- 
oughgoing upon  this  subject  than  I  have  yet  seen  in 
print,  but  my  multiphed  engagements  do  not  permit 
it.  Suppose  the  dear  Infants  all  in  Heaven.  What  a 
glorious  victory  has  been  already  achieved  over  the 
Avorld  of  darkness  !  Already  more  souls  saved  than 
lost !  What  depth  of  meaning  those  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture at  once  assume  which  speak  of  infants,  "  Out  of 
the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  thou  hast  perfected 
praise."  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me  and 
forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
"  Their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father 
in  heaven."  "  Christ  is  the  propitiation  for  the  sins  of 
the  lohole  worldj'' — only  "  those  who  believe  not  shall 
be  damned."  And  around  the  conception,  birth,  and 
infancy  of  Christ  a  new  and  glorious  light  shines,  while 
the  bodily  sufferings  in  which  infants  also  share,  and 
which  show  them  to  belong  to  a  sinful  race,  bring  them 
under  some  unalterable  moral  laws,  (John  xii.  24,) 
which  have  immediate  reference  to  life  and  salvation. 
However,  to  understand  these  subjects,  I  am  satisfied 
it  is  necessary  to  have  looked  into  the  graves  of  darUng 
children.  The  night  of  affliction  reveals  to  our  won- 
dering view  the  starry  firmament  of  divine  love,  and 
divine  truths,  and  the  promises  given  to  mourning 
souls,  can  be  felt  and  understood  by  mourners  alone. 

It  seems  to  me,  we  need  infant  choirs  in  heaven,  to 
make  up  full  concert  to  the  angelic  symphony.  Who 
will  sing  like  unto  them,  of  the  manger,  and  the  swad- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  185 

dling  clothes,  and  of  the  Lord  of  all,  drawing  nourish- 
ment from  the  bosom  of  mortal  mothers  !  True  these 
are  themes  of  infinite  interest,  and  the  delight  and 
wonder  of  angels.  But  ah  !  they  are  too  tender  for 
the  Archangel's  pow^erful  trump — too  tender  for  the 
thundering  notes  of  seraphim  and  cherubim.  We 
must  have  infant  choirs  in  heaven.  When  on  some 
Sunday  School  anniversary  the  multitude  of  little  chil- 
dren come  together,  and  after  hearing  some  w^ords  of 
tender  and  affectionate  exhortation  and  advice,  they 
strike  up  their  artless  hymn,  all  the  assembly  is  moved 
to  tears  and  the  single-hearted  little  ones  carry  away 
from  the  Masters  in  Israel  the  palm  of  eloquence ;  and 
the  thrill  of  their  tender  voices  is  felt  vibrating  in  the 
hearts  of  t'.ose  w^ho  heard  them,  w^ien  the  most  pow- 
erful speeches  are  long  forgotten. 

We  must  have  Infant  Choirs  in  Heaven  !  And  is  it 
no  privilege  to  know  one  of  our  dear  ones  among 
them  ?  What  an  interest  does  not  a  father  or  a  moth- 
er feel  in  listening  to  the  sweet  voices  of  the  children 
when  they  know  their  beloved  child  is  among  the  hap- 
py songsters.  And  is  it  not  incomparably  more  pre- 
cious to  know  them  among  the  songsters  in  Heaven  ! 
And  oh  !  with  what  additional  interest,  with  what 
quickened  anticipations  do  I  now  look  beyond  the 
grave  !  I  think  of  the  moment  when  I  shall  fold  my 
httle  ones  to  a  father's  bosom  again  and  that  forever^ 
and  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude  flow  down  my  cheeks 
involuntarily.  Even  now  while  I  am  writing,  the 
voices  of  two  of  Tny  childreii^  is  it  possible  ? — yes,  of 
tny  children  are  singing  praises  unto  Him  who  became 
a  poor  babe  and  a  man  of  sorrow^s  for  them  and  for  all 
men.  O,  let  them  sing  then  !  I  can  only  wish  to  join 
them  soon  ! 

And  now,  your  dear  James  has  gone  to  unite  with 

1A* 


186      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

them.  And  while  you  read  this,  and  it  may  be  weep, 
he  raises  his  growing  notes  of  praise  and  gratitude  to 
the  Saviour  of  all  men  and  learns  in  one  minute  more 
of  God,  and  Christ,  and  Heaven,  than  you  would  ever 
have  taught  him  in  all  your  lives.  Oh  !  leave  them 
there — all  of  tliem,  and  let  us  but  become  daily  more 
heavenly-minded,  and  more  ready  to  join  the 

''  Angels  who  stand  round  the  throne, 
And  view  my  Immanuel's  face." 

And  the — 

"  Saints  who  stand  nearer  than  they  !  !" 

All  those  redeemed  by  the  precious  blood  of  Christ, 
and  called  close  around  the  steps  of  His  Throne  to  sing 
the  song,^ — not  of  creation  and  providence  only,  but  of 
redeeming  love  and  sovereign  grace. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  PARENT  IN  BEREAVEMENT. 

No  sooner  was  its  last  struggle  over,  than  the  little 
corpse,  with  ashes  put  into  its  hand,  was  adorned  again 
with  clean  linen,  flowers,  citrons,  wreaths,  ifec,  which, 
indeed,  could  only  die  and  decay  with  it ;  and  which 
afforded  but  a  poor  and  momentary  agreeableness  to 
the  eye  ;  but  how  beautiful  must  that  adorning  be 
with  which  our  heavenly  Father  clothes  the  soul  in  his 
own  presence,  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  of  his  holy  angels  ! 

Our  chief  hindrance  to  entire  resignation  is,  that  we 
are  so  much  addicted  to  things  present  and  visible, 
while  eternal  realities  are  as  yet  so  foreign  to  us,  and 
so  little  known.  But  could  we  take  one  glance  at  the 
condition  of  a  spirit  thus  departed,  we  should  never  re- 
gret and  lament,  as  we  are  apt  to  do,  the  decease  of  rel- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  187 

atives  and  friends,  but  our  grief  would  rather  be  on  ac- 
count of  the  dim-sightedness  of  weeping  survivors. 

Surely,  when  the  door  of  paradise  is  opened  to  let  in 
any  of  our  departed  friends,  delicious  breezes  blow 
through  it  upon  us  from  that  abode  of  blessedness. 
And  we  ought  to  avail  ourselves  of  such  refreshing  in- 
fluence ;  we  ought  to  let  it  quicken  us  in  following  after 
those  who  have  gone  before  us,  rather  than  wish  those 
friends  back  again  to  a  world  hke  this.  Who  could 
ever  think  of  congratulating  any  that  have  been  enjoy- 
ing heavenly  rest  and  security  for  ten,  a  hundred,  or  a 
thousand  years  together,  upon  their  having  to  return 
back  again  to  the  perils  and  dangers  of  the  present  life  ; 
Why,  then,  should  we  regard  it  as  an  affliction  that  any 
one  of  our  number  has  escaped  from  such  perils,  and  is 
only  entered  into  perfect  peace  and  security  ?  If  a  va- 
cancy has  been  made  in  the  family  circle,  let  it  also  be 
remembered  that  another  vacancy  has  been  filled  up  in 
heaven.  The  nearer  we  in  this  world  are  approaching 
to  the  end  of  all  things,  the  more  welcome  should  be 
the  thought  of  dying ;  because  every  departed  Chris- 
tian finds  that  the  multitude  of  the  blessed  is  increas- 
ingly outnumbering  the  militant  remnant ;  and  because 
the  whole  family  of  God  are  thus  successively  gather- 
ing in,  that  we  may  all  be  together  for  ever  with  the 
Lord.* 


Parents  should  feel  in  reference  to  the  death  of  their 
children,  as  did  a  pious  woman  who,  being  ill,  was  ask- 
ed whether  she  were  willing  to  hve  or  die?  She  an- 
swered, "  which  God  pleaseth."  "  But,"  asked  one  of 
her  friends,  "  if  God  should  refer  it  to  you,  which  would 

*  From  a  Letter  of  Rev.  J.  A.  Bengel,  after  the  death  of  a  child. 


189^  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

you  choose?"     She  repUed,   "  Truly,  if  that  were  the 
case,  I  would  even  refer  it  to  him  again."* 

Thus  leave  your  children  in  the  hands  of  God,  assu- 
red that  he  will  order  all  things  well,  and  that  whether 
your  child  lives  or  dies  it  will  be  for  its  glory  and  your 
gain.t 


THE  STAR  IN  THE  EAST. 
In  one  of  those  quiet,  secluded  valleys  of  the  Alps, 
near  the  lake's  wild  margin,  embosomed  by  snow-crown- 
ed mountains,  hes  the  little  village  of  Geneva.  In  its 
midst  stood  the  moss-covered  cottage  of  Bolien.  The 
departing  radiance  of  a  summer's  sun  played  cimong 
the  leaves  of  the  flowers,  and  the  mountains  and  tall 
trees  were  inverted  in  the  pure  waters,  now  stilled  be- 
neath the  deep  blue  sky  of  heaven.  The  windows 
of  Bolien's  cottage  were  thrown  open,  the  curtains 
drawn  aside,  and  there  watched  the  wife  of  the  faith- 
ful pastor  over  her  dying  child.  Now  she  parted  the 
damp  curls  from  his  brow,  and  then  pressed  her  hps  on 
his  little  cold  fingers,  which  she  held  in  her  hand. 
Fervently  the  silent  prayer  ascended,  that  the  night  of 
sorrow  might  pass,  and  the  storm  of  agony  be  stilled  in 
her  bosom  ;  then,  as  the  babe  turned  restlessly  in  her 
lap,  in  a  low  tone  she  sung. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep. 
Once  more  upon  my  breast. 
Thine  aching  head  shall  rest, 

In  quiet  sleep. 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep. 
Sweetly  thine  eye  is  closing, 

*  Anecdote,  Christian  Graces,  p.  1.63.     Whitecross'  Anecdotes  on  O. 
T.  p.  374,  vol.  ii. 

t  Game's  Letters  from  the  East,  vol.  i-  p.  146,  and  p.  180. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      189 

Calmly  thou'rt  now  reposing-, 

In  slumber  deep. 

Sleep,  angel  baby,  sleep : 
Not  in  thy  cradle  bed 
Shall  rest  thy  little  head, 
But  with  the  quiet  dead, 

In  dreamless  sleep. 

As  the  mother  looked  on  her  boy,  she  saw  that  his 
little  limbs  were  stiff  with  the  icy  chill  of  death.  A 
smile  was  on  the  cherub  face,  and  the  long  lashes  were 
closed  over  the  blue  eyes.  Sweet  Babe !  no  wonder 
that  thy  mother's  heart  is  broken  when  she  looks  on 
her  only  child, — dead  !  The  kind-hearted  villagers 
made  a  little  grave  among  the  trees, — and  on  the  third 
day,  when  the  morning  sun  shone  upon  the  Alpine 
mountains,  they  took  from  the  mother's  bosom  her  lit- 
tle one,  and  laid  it  in  the  ground ;  and  then  they  looked 
along  the  narrow  and  wild  defile  of  the  mountain  for 
their  Pastor,  who  had  been  some  days  absent. 

At  evening  the  wife  of  Bolien  sat  alone  in  her  cot- 
tage. She  looked  upon  the  lake.  A  beautiful  light 
was  on  its  waters.  She  raised  her  head.  It  was  the 
star  in  the  east ;  and  it  came  and  stood  over  the  place 
where  the  young  child  was.  Upon  her  darkened  soul 
it  rose  as  the  star  of  hope — the  dawning  of  that  light, 
which  had  been  for  a  while  withdrawn.  "  I  shall  re- 
joice in  Him  who  was  born  King  of  the  Jews, — for  he 
hath  gathered  the  sheep  in  his  arms, — and  he  carries 
the  lambs  in  his  bosom,"  she  exclaimed, — and  her  feel- 
ings were  calmed, — her  broken  spirit  found  repose. 

That  night  the  villagers  welcomed  their  beloved  Pas- 
tor. No  one  dared  tell  him  his  only  son  rested  beneath 
the  sods  of  the  valley.  As  he  passed  from  among 
them,  into  his  own  cottage,  from  which  the  little  light 
was  faintly  gleaming,  they  uttered   the  heartfelt  ben- 


190  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

ediction,  "  Peace  be  within  this  dwelUng."  The  em- 
brace of  the  Pastor  and  his  wife  was  close  and  affec- 
tionate, and  then  the  eye  of  the  father  glanced  on  the 
cradle  which  stood  in  its  accustomed  place.  "  The 
baby  sleeps,"  he  said.  "  Blessed  be  God  who  has  pre- 
served you  both  !"  The  mother  turned  to  wipe  the 
tears  from  her  eyes,  as  she  replied,  "Yes,  the  baby 
sleeps, — you  cannot  wake  him." — The  fearful  truth 
did  not  enter  the  mind  of  Bolien,  and  he  seated  him- 
self to  partake  of  some  simple  refreshment  which  was 
set  before  him.  "  Your  countenance  is  sad,"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  he  looked  upon  the  face  of  his  wife.  "  Me- 
thinks  your  heart  should  be  full  of  joy.  What  shall 
we  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  goodness !"  The 
struggle  in  the  countenance  of  the  afflicted  mother 
was  too  agonizing  to  escape  the  notice  of  Bolien,  and, 
as  he  took  her  hand  in  his,  he  exclaimed,  "  Tell  me,  I 
beseech  you,  what  has  happened.  Christianity  I  know 
is  not  secure,  even  among  the  Alpine  valleys.  It  may 
be,  that  we  are  yet  to  cross  the  mountains  of  ice  and 
snow,  and  seek  shelter  from  those  who  persecute  us 
for  righteousness  sake.  Tell  me,  wliat  has  befallen  us, 
that  you  weep  thus?"  The  eye  of  the  heart-stricken 
mother  glanced  towards  the  cradle  of  her  babe,  and 
there  needed  no  comment.  The  Pastor  fell  on  his 
knees,  and  uttered,  '•  Our  child  is  dead .'" — then  bu- 
ried his  face  in  his  hands,  and  wept  aloud. 

An  hour  passed, — and  the  Pastor  and  his  wife  min- 
gled their  tears  at  the  grave  of  their  child.  Sweetly 
did  the  star  in  the  east  shine  on  that  little  mound. — 
As  Bolien  uncovered  his  head,  and  gazed  upward,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  The  Star  of  Bethlehem  shall  be  our  guide 
to  that  land  which  needeth  no  star  to  shine  upon  it! 
for  the  glory  of  God  shall  lighten  it ;  and  the  Lamb  is 
the  light  thereof !" 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      191 

)«.  "We  must  enter  into  the  designs  of  God,  and  try  to 
receive  the  comforts  that  he  bestows.  We  shall  soon 
fmd  him  whom  we  seem  to  have  lost ;  we  approach 
him  with  rapid  strides.  Yet  a  litle  time  and  we  shall 
shed  no  more  tears.  We  shall  die  ourselves.  Him  whom 
we  love  lives,  and  will  never  die.  This  is  what  we  be- 
lieve ;  if  we  believe  it  rightly,  we  shall  feel  in  respect  to  our 
fiiends  as  Jesus  Christ  wished  that  his  disciples  should 
feel  with  regard  to  him  when  he  rose  to  heaven.  "  If 
you  loved  me,"  said  he,  "  you  would  rejoice"  in  my 
glory.  But  we  weep  for  ourselves.  For  a  true  friend 
of  God,  who  has  been  faithful  and  humble,  we  can  only 
rejoice  at  his  happiness,  and  at  the  blessing  that  he  has 
left  upon  those  who  belonged  to  him  on  earth.  Let 
your  grief  then  be  soothed  by  the  hand  of  him  who 
has  afflicted  you. — Fenelo?t. 


Be  reconciled,  therefore,  to  the  loss  of  your  children. 
Ever  remember  they  are  loans  entrusted  to  you,  to  be 
reclaimed  hereafter,  and  you  should  always  stand  ready 
to  acknowledge  the  debt,  and  pay  it  back  again  with  a 
cheerful  and  composed  mind.  "  The  Lord  gave,  and 
he  hath  taken  away  ;"  he  lent,  and  he  hath  recalled 
the  precious  loan,  "  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 
This  couplet  should  be  written  upon  all  your  children : 

"  The  dear  delights  we  here  enjoy, 

And  fondly  call  our  own, 
Are  but  short  favours  borrowed  now, 

To  be  returned  anon." 

The  Almighty  permits  you  to  have  children,  without 
any  security  for  a  continued  possession.  Be  thankful 
for  them  while  you  enjoy  them.  Be  humble  and  re- 
signed when  he  comes  and  calls  for  them.     It  was  a 


192      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

noble  saying  of  one  of  the  ancients,  upon  the  tidings  of 
his  son's  death,  "  I  knew  that  1  begat  a  mortal."  If, 
then,  he  takes  your  offspring  away  in  infancy  or  child- 
hood, let  this  thought  comfort  you,  that  it  is  to  render 
them  more  happy  than  you  could  make  them.  He 
takes  them  from  a  world  of  sin,  to  a  world  of  satisfac- 
tion. They  are  taken  from  being  dandled  upon  the 
knee,  to  be  cherished  in  His  bosom.  The  gems  are 
taken  from  your  cabinet,  to  be  brilliantly  set  in  the  Sa- 
viour's mediatorial  crown.  The  great  and  good  hus- 
bandman transplants  them  from  an  earthly  soil  to  the 
heavenly  paradise,  where  they  will  flourish  in  unde- 
caying  beauty  and  immortal  bloom.  In  heaven  there 
may  be  taller — older — and  more  majestic  plants,  but 
none  more  fragrant  and  lovely  than  those  dear  babes, 

"  Who  died  for  Adam  sinn'd, 
But  live,  for  Jesus  died.'' 

Comfort,  therefore,  yourselves,  ye  bereaved  parents, 
vmder  the  loss  of  your  children,  whether  at  the  birth,  in 
infancy,  in  childhood,  or  in  youth  ;  and  say,  "  Behold? 
he  taketh  away,  and  who  shall  hinder."  Contemplate 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  them  again,  and  spending  an 
eternity  together  in  singing  the  praises  of  God  and  the 
Lamb,  through  whose  love  and  merits  alone  you  and 
your  infant  seed  attain  to  such  an  elevation  of  glory 
and  felicity. — From  Maternal  Solicitude. 


If  we  are  sorrowing  under  a  misfortune,  of  which 
this  world  affords  no  alleviation,  the  death  of  those  most 
dear  to  us,  let  us  humbly  offer  to  our  God  the  beloved 
whom  we  have  lost.  And  what  (after  all)  have  we  lost  ? 
— the  remaining  days  of  a  being,  whom  we  indeed 
loved,  but  whose  happiness  we  do  not  consider  in  our 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  1^ 

regret ;  who,  perhaps,  was  not  happy  here,  but  who 
certainly  must  be  much  happier  with  God;  and 
whom  we  shall  meet  again,  not  in  this  dark  and  sor- 
rowful scene,  but  in  the  bright  regions  of  eternal  day, 
and  partaking  in  the  inexpressible  happiness  of  eterni- 
ty.— Fenelon. 


Thus  it  is  with  God ;  his  parental  heart  does  not 
wish  to  grieve  us  ;  he  must  wound  us  to  the  very  heart, 
that  he  may  cure  its  malady.  He  must  take  from  us 
what  is  most  dear,  lest  we  love  it  too  much,  lest  we  love 
it  to  the  prejudice  of  our  love  for  him.  We  weep,  we 
despair,  we  groan  in  our  spirits,  and  we  murmur  against 
God  ;  but  he  leaves  us  to  our  sorrow,  and  we  are  saved  ; 
our  present  grief  saves  us  from  an  eternal  sorrow.  He 
has  placed  the  friends  whom  he  has  taken  from  us  in 
safety,  to  restore  them  to  us  in  eternity.  He  has  de- 
prived us  of  them,  that  he  may  teach  us  to  love  them 
with  a  pure  love,  a  love  that  we  may  enjoy  in  his  pres- 
ence forever ;  he  confers  a  greater  blessing  than  we 
were  capable  of  desiring — Fenelon. 


In  another  life  we  shall  see  and  understand  the  won- 
ders of  his  goodness,  that  have  escaped  us  in  this,  and 
we  shall  rejoice  at  what  has  made  us  weep  on  earth. 
Alas,  in  our  present  darkness,  we  cannot  see  either  our 
true  good  or  evil.  If  God  were  to  gratify  our  desires,  it 
would  be  our  ruin.  He  saves  us  by  breakmg  the  ties 
that  bind  us  to  earth.  We  complain  because  God  loves 
us  better  than  we  know  how  to  love  ourselves.  We 
weep  because  he  has  taken  those  whom  we  love  aWay 
from  temptation  and  sin.  We  would  possess  all  that 
delights  and  flatters  our  self-love,  though  it  might  lead 
us  to  forget  that  we  are  exiles  in  a  strange  land.     God 

17 


194  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

takes  the  poisonous  cup  from  our  hands,  and  we  weep 
as  a  child  w^eeps  when  its  mother  takes  away  the  shin- 
ing weapon  with  which  it  would  pierce  its  own  breast. 
— Fenelon. 


Have  you  lost,  by  death,  an  object  in  whom  your 
heart  was  bound  up ;  who  was  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  Hfe  and  its  prosperity,  and  in  whose  society  you  ho- 
ped for  many  years  of  enjoyment  ?  Oh  !  consider  (ere 
you  accuse  Providence  for  the  stroke)  that  this  death 
(apparently  so  untimely)  is,  possibly,  the  greatest  in- 
stance towards  you,  both  of  the  mercy  and  love  of  God. 
The  creature  so  dear  to  you,  may  have  been  taken 
from  some  sad  reverse  of  fortune,  or  from  the  commis- 
sion of  some  great  crime,  which  might  have  endangered 
his  salvation.  To  secure  this,  therefore,  God  has  re- 
moved him  from  temptation.  The  same  loss  is,  per- 
haps, a  call  from  God  to  yourself,  and  is  intended  to 
awaken  you  from  that  attachment  which  was  binding 
you  too  fast  to  this  world,  and  causing  you  to  forget 
your  Creator.  Thus  the  stroke  which,  to  secure  his 
future  happiness,  takes  him  from  the  evil  to  come,  de- 
taches you  from  the  world,  and  warns  you  to  prepare 
for  your  own  death,  through  that  of  one  so  dear  to  you. 
The  pang  of  separation  is,  indeed,  most  bitter,  yet  our 
merciful  Father  does  not  needlessly  afflict  his  creatures. 
He  wounds,  only  to  heal  the  diseases  of  our  souls.  Let 
us,  then,  in  the  hour  of  calamity,  hold  fast  by  this  con- 
viction, and  say  with  Job,  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him."  His  mercy  can  be  my  support 
here,  and  my  abundant  recompense  hereafter. — Fene- 
Ion. 


How  beautiful  and  affecting  is  the  following  language 


SOLACE-  FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  19S 

of  a  wise  and  good  parent,  respecting  his  dead  children, 
used  in  prayer  to  God,  by  the  late  William  Hay,  Esq., 
surgeon,  Leeds. 

"  I  would  offer  my  most  hearty  and  solemn  thanks- 
givings, for  thy  mercies  shown  to  my  dear  children. 
Four  of  them  thou  wast  pleased  to  call  out  of  this  dan- 
gerous and  sinful  world  during  the  state  of  infancy.  I 
surrendered  them  to  thee  in  thy  holy  ordinance  of  bap- 
tism, and  committed  them  to  thy  disposal.  Thou  didst 
remove  them,  ere  the  pollutions  of  this  world  had  led 
iheir  corrupt  hearts  astray,  and  I  humbly  hope  thou 
didst  receive  them  to  thy  glory.  Concerning  the  other 
four  whom  thou  hast  called  hence  in  adult  age,  thou 
hast  graciously  given  me  the  most  solid  hopes.  Though 
by  nature  children  of  wrath,  even  as  others,  thou  wast 
pleased  to  awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  the  odious  na- 
ture of  sin,  and  to  grant  them  true  repentance.  They 
were  early  taught  by  thy  grace  to  llee  for  refuge  to 
the  friend  of  sinners,  and  thou  didst  prolong  their  lives 
till  they  had  given  clear  proofs  of  a  sound  conversion.- 
Though  prepared,  as  I  hope,  to  glorify  thee  on  earth, 
thou  didst  dispense  with  their  services,  and  didst  re- 
move them  hence  in  the  beginning  of  their  usefulness. 
But  thy  grace  was  with  them.  In  their  sickness,  and 
at  the  approach  of  death,  they  were  enabled  to  rejoice 
in  thy  salvation.  The  last  of  them  I  am  this  day  to 
commit  to  the  silent  grave,  but  in  sure  and  certain 
hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection  to  eternal  life.  What 
shall  I  render  to  thee  for  all  thy  mercies  !  O  tliat  my 
future  life  might  more  abundantly  show  forth  thy 
praise  !"  Attend,  ye  parents,  to  these  sentiments  of  de- 
votion. The  onl}^  way  to  part  with  your  children  with 
resignation  and  hope,  should  they  be  removed  from 
you  by  the  stroke  of  death,  is  to  dedicate  them  to  the 


196  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Lord  of  all,  and  to  bring  them  up  for  his  service  and 
glory. —  The  Parents  Monitor. 


CIuinctilian's  letter  upon  the  death  of  his  two 
sons,  one  of  whom  was  a  youth  highly  accomplished, 
and  of  great  promise,  is  beautiful  and  touching.  But 
in  it  he  boasts  of  his  impatience,  thinks  it  necessary  to 
excuse  himself  for  having  survived  the  stroke,  denies 
the  doctrine  of  a  Divine  superintendence  over  the  affairs 
of  men,  accuses  the  gods  of  spite  and  injustice,  and 
says  his  tolerance,  not  his  love  of  life,  will  revenge  his 
son  for  the  rest  of  his  days.  This  was  all  that  ethics 
could  do  to  calm  his  mind.  What  will  an  infidel  say 
to  such  a  scene  as  contrasted  with  the  faith  and  pa- 
tience of  the  saints  ?  Will  he  say  that  their  meek  en- 
durance is  the  fruit  of  advanced  philosophy  ?  Q,uinc- 
tilian  lived  in  an  age  enlightened  by  literature,  but 
Rome  was  far  behind  Jerusalem  in  the  sublimities  of 
moral  precept,  because  the  true  light  had  not  radiated 
its  horizon.  And  then  see  how  Job  acted,  though  in  a 
ruder  age,  and  surrounded  by  idolatry.  Revelation 
cast  a  bright  hue  of  heaven  over  all  his  sorrows. — Dr. 
Lawson. 


God  is  righteous  in  taking  from  us.  He  is  merciful 
in  sparing  to  us  what  he  has  not  taken.  If  it  had 
pleased  God  to  cut  off  the  half  of  our  famihes,  it  would 
have  been  our  duty  to  have  given  him  thanks  that  the 
other  half  was  left.  I  bless  God  for  the  hope  of  seeing 
those  whom  I  have  lost  with  greater  pleasure  than 
ever,  but  I  have  still  more  reason  to  bless  him  for  the 
gift  of  his  own  Son  to  such  unworthy  creatures  as  1  am, 
that  through  faith  in  him  I  may  have  everlasting  liffe. 
— Dr.  Lawso7i. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  197 

When  God  imposes  a  sacrifice  upon  us,  or  takes 
from  us  some  object,  he  does  not  leave  us  to  endure  the 
stroke  unsustained  ;  but  if  through  the  veil  of  sorrow 
which  he  spreads  over  us,  we  look  up  to  Him,  we  shall 
by  the  means  of  our  mortal  trials,  reap  everlasting  joys. 
We  are  not  to  enquire  of  God  why  he  appoints  us 
such  trials,  when  we  behold  others  exempt  from  them. 
Can  we  say  how  long  our  hitherto  more  fortunate  fel- 
low-creatures may  continue  untried  with  the  like  ca- 
lamities ?  It  may  be,  that  God  sees  we  have  most  need 
of  them  :  If  we  are  faithful  in  what  we  understand, 
how  limited  soever  our  imperfect  view  may  be  of  God's 
dealings  with  us,  we  shall  find  rest  unto  our  souls,  until 
it  please  God  to  dissolve  our  earthly  tabernacle.  We 
know,  that  then  we  shall  have  a  building  of  God,  a 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens. 
Let  us,  therefore,  follow  continually  that  guiding  star, 
which  beams  upon  our  darkened  way.  Let  us,  with 
a  willing  and  steady  mind,  embrace  the  occasions  which 
each  day  may  offer  us  of  advancing  towards  our  heav- 
enly country,  where  we  shall  find  our  everlasting  home. 
This  is  our  daily  bread,  our  manna  in  the  wilderness 
of  life :  with  this  let  us  be  content.  If  we  presump- 
tuously seek  to  look  into  futurity,  our  endeavours  will 
be  like  the  forbidden  provision  of  the  Israelites,  not 
only  superfluous,  but  noxious  to  ourselves. — Fenelon. 


THE  TEACHING  OF  BAPTISM. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  feelings  with  which  parents 
should  retire  from  the  baptismal  service. 

It  is  a  solemn  moment  when  they  take  the  child 
away  from  the  altar.  They  have  given  it  to  God ; 
and  they  bear  it  away,  as  the  mother  of  Moses  did  her 
own  son,  to  bring  it  up  for  another,  who,  in  this  case, 


198  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

is  God.  They  have,  by  their  vows,  promised  that  the 
will  of  God  concerning  their  child  shall  be  their  will,  so 
that  the  question  of  its  hfe  or  death  is  left  implicitly 
with  him.  Though  their  hearts  will  bleed  if  it  should 
be  taken  away,  yet,  by  the  baptismal  service,  they  have 
engaged  to  consider  the  child  henceforth  as  entirely  at 
God's  disposal;  and  whenever  they  look  upon  it  here- 
after, the  feeling  which  they  are  to  have  is  expressed 
by  these  words,  Sent^  not  given.  If  it  dies,  they  will 
remember  its  baptism  and  their  vows,  and  the  peace  of 
God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  will  steal  into 
their  breaking  hearts.  If  it  lives,  it  is  to  be  trained  up 
for  that  God  to  whom  it  has  been  given. 


Very  soon  they  who  are  separated  will  be  re-united, 
and  there  will  appear  no  trace  of  the  separation.  They, 
who  are  about  to  set  upon  a  journey,  ought  not  to  feel 
themselves  far  distant  from  those  who  have  gone  to  the 
same  country  a  few  days  before.  Life  is  like  a  torrent ; 
the  past  is  but  a  dream  ;  the  present,  while  we  are 
thinking  of  it,  escapes  us,  and  is  precipitated  into  the 
same  abyss  that  has  swallowed  up  the  past ;  the  future 
will  not  be  of  a  different  nature,  it  will  pass  as  rapidly. 
A  few  moments,  and  a  few  more,  and  all  will  be  ended  ; 
what  has  appeared  long  and  tedious,  will  seem  short 
when  it  is  finished. — Fenelon. 


These  infant  buds,  therefore,  that  seem  nipt  on 
earth,  are  merely  removed  to  heaven,  there  to  unfold 
themselves  in  everlasting  bloom.  Nature  leaves  them 
pining  upon  earth,  Grace  takes  them  in  her  arms, 
wraps  them  in  her  warm  bosom,  and  wafts  them  away 
to  the  better  land. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      199 

"  See,  then,  how  soon  the  flowers  of  life  decay, 

How  soon  terrestrial  pleasures  fade  away. 

A  star  of  comfort  for  a  moment  giv'n, 

Just  rose  on  earth,  then  set  to  rise  in  heaVn, 

Redeem'd  by  God  from  sin,  releas'd  from  pain, 

Its  life  were  punishment,  its  death  is  gain. 

Though  it  be  hard  to  bid  thy  heart  divide, 

To  lay  the  gem  of  all  thy  love  aside, 

Faith  tells  thee,  (and  it  tells  thee  not  in  vain,) 

That  thou  shalt  meet  thine  infant  yet  again. 

While  yet  on  earth  thine  ever-circling  arms 

Held  it  securest  from  surrounding  harms ; 

Yet  even  there  disease  could  aim  the  dart, 

Chill  the  warm  cheek,  and  stop  the  flutt'ring  heart ; 

No  ill  can  reach  it  now ;  it  rests  above, 

Safe  in  the  bosom  of  celestial  love. 

Its  short,  but  3^et  tempestuous  way,  is  o'er. 

And  tears  shall  trickle  down  its  cheek  no  more. 

Then  far  be  grief;  faith  looks  beyond  the  tomb. 

And  heav'ns  bright  portals  sparkle  through  the  gloom. 

If  bitter  thoughts  and  tears  in  heav'n  could  be, 

It  is  thine  infant  that  should  weep  for  thee." 

Mrs.  Wilson  writes  very  sweetly  :  "  It  is  only  my 
child's  moital  part  that  rests  in  silence ;  his  spirit  ia 
with  God  in  his  temple  above.  He  is  one  of  the  re- 
deemed, who  now  throng  the  courts  of  heaven,  and 
surroimd  the  throne  of  the  Most  High.  Boundless 
perfection  constitutes  his  felicity,  unceasing  praises 
dwell  upon  his  lips,  his  holiness  is  for  ever  perfected, 
and  his  affections  are  made  to  flow  in  ever-during 
channels,  toward  the  Source  of  infinite  perfection,  and 
through  all  those  subordinate  streams  where  it  is  dis- 
tributed. The  light  of  heaven  encircles  him,  and  its 
splendours  delight  his  soul.  His  vision  is  unclouded, 
and  penetrates  into  the  deep  things  of  God.  I  see 
him  among  the  glorious  throng,  now  bending  in  holy 
adoration  of  the  majesty  of  heaven,  now  a  commission- 
ed messenger  of  mercy  to  otiier  and  far  distant  worlds. 


9QQ  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Perhaps  he  hovers  now  around  our  dweUing ;  perhaps 
he  will  stand  at  heaven's  portals,  and  be  the  first  to 
usher  us  into  the  presence  chamber  of  the  King. 
Shall  I  then  continue  to  shed  unavaihng  tears,  and 
selfishly  repine  at  the  short,  the  momentary  separation? 
He  will  never  return  to  us,  but  we  shall  go  to  him.  In 
regard  to  our  beloved  child,  we  can  take  up  the  trium- 
phant song,  '  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  O  grave, 
where  is  thy  victory  ?'  " 


THE  HOPE  OF  A  RESURRECTION. 

LAVEL. 


Let  those  mourn  without  measure,  who  mourn 
without  hope.  The  husbandman  does  not  mourn, 
when  he  casts  his  seed  into  the  ground.  He  expects 
to  receive  it  again,  and  more.  The  same  hope  have 
we,  respecting  our  fi-iends  who  have  died  in  faith.  "  I 
would  not  have  you  ignorant,"  says  Paul,  "  concerning 
them  who  are  asleep,  that  ye  sorrow  not  as  others  who 
have  no  hope ;  for  if  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and 
rose  again,  even  so  also  them  who  sleep  in  Jesus  will 
God  bring  with  him."  He  seems  to  say,  "Look  not  on 
the  dead  as  lost.  They  are  not  annihilated.  Indeed, 
they  are  not  dead.  They  only  sleep ;  and  they  sleep 
to  awake  again."  You  do  not  lament  over  your  chil- 
dren or  friends,  while  slumbering  on  their  beds.  Con- 
sider death  as  a  longer  sleep,  from  which  they  shall 
certainly  awake.  Even  a  heathen  philosopher  could 
say,  that  he  enjoyed  his  friends,  expecting  to  part  with 
them ;  and  parted  with  them,  expecting  to  see  them 
again.  And  shall  a  heathen  excel  a  Christian  in  bear- 
ing affliction  with  cheerfulness  ? — If  you  have  a  well- 
grounded  hope  that  your  deceased  friend  was  interest- 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED   PARENTS.  201 

ed  in  Christ,  ponder,  I  entreat  you,  the  precious  sup- 
ports afforded  by  the  doctrine  of  the  Resurrection  of 
the  just. 


THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD  NO  CAUSE  OF  DESPONDENCY. 

Dejected  mourner,  bereft,  as  you  seem,  of  all  joy, 
you  have  no  cause  for  despondency.  O  that  you  real- 
ized what  blessings  God  has  to  bestow  on  those  who 
submissively  wait  on  him  in  their  affliction  !  He  has 
consolations  far  transcending  the  joy  of  children.  So 
others  have  found.  An  eminently  pious  man,  having 
lost  an  only  son,  retired  for  some  hours  to  his  closet, 
and  then  came  forth  with  such  a  cheerful  countenance, 
that  all  who  saw  him  were  filled  with  surprise.  Being 
asked  an  explanation  of  this,  he  replied,  that  he  had 
enjoyed,  in  his  retirement,  that  which,  if  renewed, 
might  well  reconcile  him  to  part  with  a  son  every  day. 
O  how  great  the  disproportion  between  the  light  of 
God's  countenance,  and  the  best,  the  sweetest  of  cre- 
ated enjoyments  ! 


The  memory  of  the  sainted  dead  hovers,  a  blessed 
and  purifying  influence,  over  the  hearts  of  men.  At 
the  grave  of  the  good,  so  far  from  losing  heart,  the 
spiritually  minded  find  new  strength.  They  weep,  but 
as  they  weep,  they  look  down  into  the  sepulchre,  and 
behold  angels  sitting,  and  the  dead  come  nearer,  and 
are  united  to  them  by  a  fellowship  more  intimate 
than  that  of  blood. — Rev.  W.  H.  Furness. 


We  are  forbidden  to  murmur,  but  we  are  not  forbid- 
den to  regret ;  and  whom  we  loved  tenderly  while 
li^^kig^,  wft  may  still  pursue  with  an  aflfectionate  re- 


202  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

membrance,  without  having  any  occasion  to  charge 
ourselves  with  rebeUion  against  the  sovereignty  that 
appointed  a  separation. —  Coivper. 


WOULD  YOU  CALL  THEM  BACK  TO  THIS  UNHAPPY 
WORLD  1 

E.EV.   G.  WHYTE. 

Could  you  be  so  selfish,  and  so  cruel?  Could  you 
wish  them  back — back  from  the  presence  of  the  Lamb, 
— back  from  the  sweets  of  glory  to  the  bitterness  of 
time, — back  from  those  rivers  of  pure  pleasure  which 
flow  full  and  large  at  God's  right  hand,  to  the  streams 
of  mingled  enjoyment  in  this  vale  of  sorrow  ?  After  they 
have  reached  the  haven  of  rest,  would  you  recall  them 
to  struggle  again  with  the  storm  ?  Is  there  any  thing 
in  the  state  or  employments  of  those  who  surround  the 
throne  which  you  are  called  upon  to  contemplate  with 
sadness,  or  to  deplore  in  the  language  of  despair  ?  Is 
it  any  subject  of  regret  to  them  that  their  sun  went 
down  while  it  was  yet  day  ? 


LETTER  TO  A  MOTHER  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HER  CHILD. 

Dear  Madam, — I  do  most  sincerely  sympathize 
with  you  in  your  present  distressed  circumstances.  It 
was  only  to-day  that  we  heard  how  it  hath  pleased 
your  Heavenly  Father  to  take  from  you  your  little 
child.  We  can  easily  suppose  that  you  must  be  over- 
whelmed with  deep  affliction  ;  and  we  desire  rather  to 
weep  with  you,  than  to  try  to  stem  the  torrent  of  your 
grief;  yet  will  you  bear  with  us,  while  we  try  to  call 
up  to  your  recollection  topics  of  strong  consolation. 
The  dear  little  one  is  indeed  gone  ;  you  shall  not  any 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      203 

more  press  her  to  your  heart  or  dandle  her  on  your 
knee ;  her  httle  pleasing  arts  shall  no  more  dehght  you. 
And  who  can  wonder  that  Rachel  weeps  because  her 
children  are  not.  But  will  you  bear  with  us,  my  dear 
friend,  if  we  say  that  you  have  cause  for  mixing  joy 
with  your  mourning  ? 

Raise  your  thoughts,  then,  from  the  fears  of  death 
and  the  darkness  of  the  grave  to  the  land  of  light  and 
holy  joy.  Consider  your  daughter  as  having  escaped 
all  the  perplexities  and  sins  of  an  evil  world,  and  ob- 
taining an  inheritance  among  them  who  are  sanctified. 
She  was  your  charge  for  a  short  time,  but  God  design- 
ed that  she  should  now  be  glorified.  He  therefore  sent 
his  angel  to  fetch  her  home.  The  angel  gladly  de- 
scended. He  saw,  that  you  might  for  a  little  have  sor- 
row upon  sorrow,  but  the  child  should  rejoice  with  joy 
unspeakable.  He  left  your  house  a  house  of  mourn- 
ing, but  with  him  your  dear  infant  rose  above  the 
suns,  and  moons,  and  stars :  the  gate  of  heaven  was 
thrown  open, — the  angel  presented  his  charge — Jesus 
smiled  wuth  ineffable  sweetness,  and  said,  "  Come, 
thou  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you."  She  was  no  longer  an  infant  of  days; 
her  soul  swelled  and  grew ;  a  crown  was  put  upon  her 
bead  ;  she  cast  it  at  Jesus'  feet,  and  cried,  "  To  him 
that  loved  me  and  washed  me  from  my  sins,  to  him  be 
glory."  See,  and  now  in  a  white  robe  she  walks  with 
all  the  saints  in  the  presence  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb. 
Oh  !  my  dear  friend,  amidst  all  your  doubts  and  fears, 
what  w^ould  not  some  folks  give  to  be  as  sure  as  she  is  of 
singing  for  ever  the  praises  of  redeeming  grace  ?  You 
have  often  prayed  for  her  ;  your  prayers  in  substance 
are  answered  ;  perhaps  in  heaven  she  may  be  praying 
for  you.  And  much  as  in  this  world  we  mourn  the 
death  of  friends,  when  the  day  comes  that  her  parents 


204  SOLACE    FOR    BERBAVpD    PARENTS. 

must  die,  it  shall,  I  trust,  be  to  her  a  day  of  transport- 
ing bliss.  She  will  fly  to  the  gate  of  heaven  to  wel- 
come and  to  embrace  you,  and  so  shall  you  all  be  for 
ever  with  the  Lord.  Wherefore,  while  you  mourn 
your  own  loss,  let  us  be  permitted  to  entreat  you  to 
comfort  one  another  with  these  hopes.  We  are  well, 
thanks  be  to  God ;  when  you  can  find  conveniency  to 
write  to  us,  be  so  good  as  to  say  when  we  may  expect 

to  see  both  in .     A  little  absence  from  home  at 

present  might  not  be  unseasonable :  and  we  hope  we 
may  say,  there  are  not  many  who  would  be  more  hap- 
py in  the  pleasure  of  your  company.  With  all  regard 
and  sympathy,  we  remain  your  affectionate  friends. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

SELECTIONS   IN   POETRY. 


If  there  be  power  in  song's  harmonious  meed, 

To  raise,  refine,  excite  heroic  deed. 

Or  crown  proud  virtue  with  perennial  fame, 

'Twas  God  first  gave  it  with  a  worthier  aim. 

To  hallelujahs— ere  this  world  began, 

Hymned  through  all  spheres — he  waked  his  image,  man ; 

Touch'd  every  bosom-chord  with  grateful  love. 

That  earth  might  join  the  host  of  worlds  above. 

The  lowliest  verse  that  ever  breath'd  to  impart 

Its  simple  fervour  to  the  pious  heart. 

To  make  praise  vocal,  and  give  faith  a  voice, 

Gr  help  the  humblest  Christian  to  rejoice, 

Though  feebly  lisp'd  from  childhood's  faltering  tongue, 

Yet  chimes  aloft,  where  heavenly  strains  are  sung : 

That  spirit  pure  all  human  thought  above, 

Still  bears  it  up  on  wings  of  holiest  love  ! 

When  tongues  shall  cease,  and  transient  science  fail, 

The  harps  of  heaven  shall  catch  the  undying  tale, 

Past  ruin's  power  shall  sacred  truth  embalm 

The  hallowed  hymn,  the  heavenly  breathing  psalm  : 

Strains  now  unhonoured  in  this  world's  esteem. 

When  earth  sinks  mute,  shall  be  the  seraph's  theme, 

And  all  the  choirs  of  blessedness  employ, 

The  still  sweet  song  of  everlasting  joy  ! 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS. 

"  The  great  end  of  Poetry  is  to  instruct,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  gives  pleasure.  By  the  decorations  of  ele- 
gance, and  the  harmony  of  numbers,  it  is  well  calcu- 
lated to  win  its  way  both  to  the  heart  and  understand- 
ing,— like  a  still  and  placid  stream  which  beautifies  and 
enriches  all  around  it.  Hence  from  the  earliest  ages, 
when  the  first  hymn  of  praise,  as  it  were  the  song  of 
the  morning  star,  was  borne  on  the  wings  of  the  cherubim 


206      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

to  the  throne  of  glory,  Poetry  has  ever  been  a  principal 
medium  for  communicating  instruction  to  the  mind, 
and  captivating  the  affections  of  the  heart.  The  truth 
of  this  remark  is  well  illustrated  by  the  use  which  all 
know  has  been  made  of  it  by  the  poets  of  the  Ancients, 
to  instruct  in  the  various  arts  and  sciences,  as  well  as 
to  incite  to  deeds  of  heroism,  and  to  lives  of  virtue." 

"  In  times  of  bereavement,  the  mind  often  becomes 
utterly  depressed  and  bewildered  at  its  inability  of  ex- 
pression, and  it  turns  instinctively  to  the  language  of 
another :  to  '  the  deep  sad  harmonies  that  haunt  the 
breast  of  the  Poet,'  who  has  foreshadowed  a  portraiture 
of  our  own  hearts ;  and  we  are  comforted  by  the  assu- 
rance it  gives,  that  our  state  is  not  peculiar.  In  our 
weakness  of  grief  we  are  apt  to  feel  as  if  alone ;  as  if 
set  apart  as  a  mark  for  the  shafts  of  adversity  ;  but  we 
now  learn  the  fact,  that  we  are  only  one  of  the  great 
brotherhood  of  sorrow." 

"  In  moments  of  affliction,  we  often  shrink  from  the 
incompetence  of  those  who,  from  their  genuine  kindli- 
ness of  heart,  obtrude  their  sympathy  upon  us.  The 
commonplace  generalities  to  which  such  persons  resort, 
revolt  us,  as  heartless  and  hackneyed  ;  the  human 
voice,  even,  assumes  a  dissonance,  when  it  urges  us  to 
forget  a  grief  over  which  the  heart  yearns  with  a  de- 
voted tenderness,  feeling  as  if  relief  were  a  treason  to 
the  beloved  object.  Few  can  afford  consolation  in  pe- 
riods like  these — few  should  attempt  it." 

"  The  Poet  is  the  interpreter  of  the  human  heart — 
the  expounder  of  its  mysteries.  An  utterance  is  given 
to  him,  which  is  denied  to  others,  even  although  their 
feeUngs  may  be  akin  to  his  own.  Through  him  Truth 
speaks :  and  wild  or  wayward  as  may  seem  her  revela- 
tions, yet  it  is  the  common  sentiment,  the  universal 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      207 

emotioiij  she  speaks  ;  she  gives   the  germ  of  a  nobler 
principle,  the  incentive  to  a  higher  hope." 

"  We  weep  over  his  words,  reUeved  by  a  strange 
sympathy ;"  find  through  him  a  voice  and  utterance  for 
thouglits  too  deep  for  expression  ;  and  are  at  once  re- 
lieved, comforted,  and  instructed. 


THE  EVENING  CLOUD. 

A  CLOUD  lay  cradled  near  the  setting  sun, 

A  gleam  of  crimson  tinged  its  braided  snow  ; 
Long  had  I  watched  the  glory  moving  on, 

O'er  the  still  radiance  of  the  lake  below  ; 
Tranquil  its  spirit  seemed,  and  floated  slow, 

E'en  in  its  very  motion  there  was  rest. 
While  every  breath  of  eve  that  chanced  to  blow, 

Wafted  the  traveller  to  the  beauteous  west. 
Emblem,  how  bright  of  dying  infant  souls. 

To  whose  white  robe  the  gleam  of  bliss  is  giv'n, 
While  mercy's  breath  its  flight  securely  rolls. 

Right  onward  to  the  golden  gates  of  heaven ; 
Where  to  the  eye  of  faith  it  peaceful  hes. 

And  tells  to  weeping  friends  its  glorious  destinies. 
{Altered from  Professor  WilMOtK 


CASA  WAPPY.* 

And  hast  thou  sought  thy  heavenly  home. 

Our  fond,  dear  boy — 
The  realms  where  sorrow  dare  not  come, 

Where  life  is  joy  ? 
Pure  at  thy  death  as  at  thy  birth. 
Thy  spirit  caught  no  taint  from  earth ; 
Even  by  its  bliss  we  mete  our  death, 
Casa  Wappy ! 


•  From  "  Domestic  Verses,  by  Delta"  (D.  M.  Moir,  Esq.),  1843. 
Casa  Wappy  was  the  self-conferred  pet  name  of  an  infant  son  of  the 
poet>  snatched  away  after  a  very  brief  illness. 


208  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Thou  wert  a  vision  of  delight 

To  bless  us  given ; 
Beauty  embodied  to  our  sight, 

A  type  of  heaven  : 
So  dear  to  us  thou  wert,  thou  art 
Even  less  thine  own  self  than  a  part 
Of  mine  and  of  thy  mother's  heart, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Thy  bright  brief  day  knew  no  decline, 

'Twas  cloudless  joy ; 
Sunrise  and  night  alone  were  thine. 

Beloved  boy ! 
This  morn  beheld  thee  blithe  and  gay, 
That  found  thee  prostrate  in  decay. 
And  ere  a  third  shone,  clay  was  clay, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Gem  of  our  hearth,  our  household  pride. 

Earth's  undefiled; 
Could  love  have  saved,  thou  hadst  not  died, 

Our  dear,  sweet  child ! 
Humbly  we  bow  to  Fate's  decree ; 
Yet  had  we  hope  that  Time  should  see 
Thee  mourn  for  us,  not  us  for  thee, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Do  what  I  may,  go  where  I  will, 

Thou  meet'st  my  sight ; 
There  dost  thou  glide  before  me  still — 

A  form  of  light ! 
I  feel  thy  breath  upon  my  cheek — 
I  see  thee  smile,  I  hear  thee  speak — 
Till,  oh !  my  heart  is  like  to  break, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Methinks  thou  smil'st  before  me  now, 

With  glance  of  stealth  ; 
The  hair  thrown  back  from  thy  full  brow 

In  buoyant  health : 
I  see  thine  eyes'  deep  violet  light, 
Thy  dimpled  cheek  carnationed  bright, 
Tliy  clawing  arms  so  round  and  white, 
Casa  Wappy  I 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  20^ 

The  nursery  shows  thy  pictured  wall, 

Thy  bat,  thy  bow, 
Thy  cloak  and  bonnet,  club  and  ball ; 

But  where  art  thou  ? 
A  corner  holds  thine  empty  chair, 
Thy  playthings  idly  scattered  there. 
But  speak  to  us  of  our  despair, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Even  to  the  last  thy  every  word — 

To  glad,  to  grieve — 
Was  sweet  as  sweetest  song  of  bird 

On  summer's  eve  ; 
In  outward  beauty  undecayed, 
Death  o'er  thy  spirit  cast  no  shade, 
And  like  the  rainbow  thou  didst  fade, 
Casa  Wappy ! 


Snows  muffled  earth  when  thou  didst  go, 

In  life's  spring-bloom, 
Down  to  the  appointed  house  below, 

The  silent  tomb. 
But  now  the  green  leaves  of  the  tree, 
The  cuckoo  and  the  "  busy  bee," 
Return — but  with  them  bring  not  thee, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

'Tis  so;  but  can  it  be  (while  flowers 

Revive  again) — 
Man's  doom,  in  death  that  we  and  ours 

For  aye  remain  ? 
Oh !  can  it  be,  that  o'er  the  grave 
The  grass  renewed  should  yearly  wave, 
Yet  God  forgert  our  child  to  save  ? — 
Casa  Wappy ! 

It  cannot  be  :  for  were  it  so 

Thus  man  could  die, 
Life  were  a  mockery,  Thought  were  wo, 

And  Truth  a  lie  ; 
Heaven  were  a  coinage  of  the  brain, 


210  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Religion  frenzy,  Virtue  vain, 
And  all  our  hopes  to  meet  again, 
Casa  Wappy ! 

Then  be  to  us,  O  dear,  lost  child ! 

With  beam  of  love, 
A  star,  death's  uncongenial  wild 

Smiling  above; 
Soon,  soon  thy  little  feet  have  trod 
The  skyward  path,  the  seraph's  road, 
That  led  thee  back  from  man  to  God, 
Casa  Wappy ! 
*  *  *  * 

Farewell,  then — for  a  while,  farewell — 

Pride  of  my  heart ! 
It  cannot  be  that  long  we  dwell, 

,  Thus  torn  apart : 
Time's  shadows  like  the  shuttle  flee: 
And,  dark  howe'er  life's  night  may  be, 
Beyond  the  grave  I'll  meet  with  thee, 
Casa  Wappy ! 


BY  THE  BEDSIDE  OF  A  SICK  CHILD. 
David,  therefore,  besought  God  for  the  child. — 2  Sam.  xii,  16. 

Now  all  is  done  that  love,  and  care. 
And  skilful  kindness  could  suggest ; 

And  he  who  heard  our  anxious  prayer, 
Will  answer  as  his  love  thinks  best : 

O,  that  both  hopes  and  fears  were  still 

Waiting  on  his  mysterious  will 

And  yet,  both  hopes  and  fears  will  crowd 
Around  that  bright  and  precious  child ; 

And  both  will  speak  their  thoughts  aloud. 
Till  this  distracted  heart  is  wild : 

O  might  they  all  give  place  to  one 

Heart  filling  prayer, — '•  God's  will  be  done." 

Sometimes  a  dream  of  what  may  be, 
Comes,  like  soft  sunshine,  o'er  the  heart ; 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  211 

I  hear  his  prattle  at  my  knee, 

Feel  his  warm  cheek  near  mine,  and  start 
To  find  it — ah !  so  cold  and  pale, 
That  hope  (and  well-nigh  faith)  doth  fail. 

And  then,  again,  the  dream  returns, — 

Childhood  and  youth  are  safely  o'er  ; 
His  eye  with  manhood's  ardour  burns, 

Tears  hover  round  his  path  no  more  : 
Hopes  with  their  buds  and  blossoms,  all 
Burst,  where  his  bounding  footsteps  fall. 

He  seems  to  speak — with  anxious  ear, 

My  very  heart  waits  breathless  by  ; 
His  lips  are  parted, — and  I  hear. 

My  precious  babe,  thy  restless  cry  ; — 
E'en  hope,  affrighted,  flees  away, 
As  if  it  had  no  heart  to  stay. 

Come  then,  my  God,  and  take  the  place 

Of  these  distracting  hopes  and  fears  ; 
'Stablish  this  trembling  heart  with  grace. 

Dry  with  thine  hand  these  falling  tears ; 
And  teach  me  to  confide  in  thee 
The  treasure  thou  couldst  trust  with  me. 

Happy  if,  rescued  from  the  strait 

Of  being  called  on  to  decide. 
Here  with  submissive  soul,  I  wait. 

By  thy  decision  to  abide, — 
Life,  with  its  blessings  and  its  pain, 
Or  death,  with  its,  "  to  die  is  gain  " 


THE  SICK  CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  HEAVEN. 

"  And  bade  me  be  glad  to  die." 
By  Robert  Nicoll,  Scotland's  second  Bums. 

^'  O  MiTHER,  mither,  my  head  was  sair, 
And  my  een  wi'  tears  were  weet. 

But  the  pain  has  gane  for  evermair, 
Sae  mither  dinna  greet ; 


212  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

And  I  ha'e  had  sic  a  bonnie  dream, 

Since  last  asleep  I  fell, 
O'  a'  that  is  holy  an'  gude  to  name. 

That  I  have  wauken'd  my  dream  to  teli. 

I  thought  on  the  morn  o'  a  simmer  day, 

That  awa'  through  the  clouds  I  flew, 
While  my  silken  hair  did  wavin'  play 

'Mang  breezes  steep'd  in  dew  ; 
And  the  happy  things  o'  life  and  light 

Were  around  my  gowden  way, 
As  they  stood  in  their  parent  Heaven's  sight 

In  the  hames  o'  nightless  day. 

An'  songs  o'    jve  that  nae  tongue  may  tell^ 

Frae  their  hearts  cam'  flowin'  free. 
Till  the  starns  stood  still,  while  alang  did  swell 

The  plaintive  melodic : 
And  ane  o'  them  sang  wi'  my  mither's  voice, 

Till  through  my  heart  did  gae 
That  chanted  hymn  o'  my  bairnhood's  choice, 

Sae  dowie,  saft,  an'  wae. 

Thae  happy  things  o'  the  glorious  sky 

Did  lead  me  far  away, 
Where  the  stream  o'  life  rins  never  dry, 

Where  nathing  kens  decay  ; 
And  they  laid  me  down  in  a  mossy  bed, 

Wi'  curtains  o'  spring  leaves  green, 
And  the  name  o'  God  they  praying  said, 

And  a  light  came  o'er  my  een. 

And  I  saw  the  earth  that  I  had  left, 

And  I  saw  my  mither  there  ; 
And  I  saw  her  grieve  that  she  was  bereft 

O'  the  bairn  she  thought  sae  fair ; 
And  I  saw  her  pine  till  her  spirit  fled — 

Like  a  bird  to  its  young  one's  nest — 
To  that  land  of  love ;  and  my  head  was  laid 

Again  on  my  mither's  breast. 

And,  mither,  ye  took  me  by  the  hand, 
As  ye  were  wont  to  do  ; 


80LAC£    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  ^^ 

And  your  loof,  sae  saft  and  white,  I  fand 

Laid  on  my  caller  brow ; 
And  my  lips  you  kiss'd,  and  my  curling  hair 

You  round  your  fingers  wreath'd ; 
And  I  kent  that  a  happy  mither's  prayer 

Was  o'er  me  silent  breath'd  ; 

And  we  wander'd  through  that  happy  land, 

That  was  gladly  glorious  a' ; 
The  dwellers  there  were  an  angel  band, 

And  their  voices  o'  love  did  fa' 
On  our  ravish'd  ears  like  the  deein'  tones 

O'  an  anthem  far  away, 
In  a  star-lit  hour,  when  the  woodland  moans 

That  its  green  is  turn'd  to  grey. 

And,  mither,  amang  the  sorrowless  there, 

We  met  my  brithers  three. 
And  your  bonnie  May,  my  sister  fair, 

And  a  happy  bairn  was  she ; 
And  she  led  me  awa'  'mang  living  flowers, 

As  on  earth  she  aft  has  done ; 
And  thegither  we  sat  in  the  holy  bowers, 

Where  the  blessed  rest  aboon  ; — 

And  she  tauld  me  I  was  in  Paradise, 

Where  God  in  love  doth  dwell — 
Where  the  weary  rest,  and  the  mourner's  voice 

Forgets  its  warld-wail ; 
And  she  tauld  me  they  kent  na  dule  nor  care ; 

And  bade  me  be  glad  to  dee. 
That  yon  sinless  land  and  the  dwellers  there 

Might  be  hame  and  kin  to  me. 

Then  sweetly  a  voice  came  on  my  ears. 

And  it  sounded  sae  holily. 
That  my  heart  grew  saft,  and  blabs  o'  tears 

Sprung  up  in  my  sleepin'  e'e  ; 
And  my  inmost  soul  was  sairly  moved 

Wi'  its  mair  than  mortal  joy ; — 
'  Twas  the  voice  o'  Him  wha  bairnies  lov'd 

That  waken'd  your  dreamin'  bpy !" 


214  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


THE  BEREAVED. 

BY    ROBERT    NTCOLL. 

They  re  a'  gane  thegither,  Jeanie — 

They're  a'  gane  thegither : 
Our  bairns  aneath  the  cauldrife  yird 

Are  laid  wi'  ane  anither. 
Sax  lads  and  lasses  Death  has  ta'en 

Frae  father  an'  frae  mither ; 
But  O  !  we  manna  greet  and  mane — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither,  Jeanie — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither. 

Our  eild  will  now  be  drearie,  Jeanie — 

Our  eild  will  now  be  drearie : 
Our  young  an'  bonnie  bairns  ha'e  gane, 

An'  left  our  hame  fu'  eerie. 
'Neath  Age's  hand  we  now  may  grane — 

In  poortith  cauld  may  s wither: 
The  things  that  toddled  but  an'  ben 

Are  a'  on  hie  thegither,  Jeanie — 

Are  a'  on  hie  thegither. 

Now  sorrow  may  come  near  us,  Jeanie — 

Now  sorrow  may  come  near  us : 
The  buirdly  chields  are  lyin'  low 

Wha  wadna  let  it  steer  us. 
The  bonnie  lasses  are  awa' 

Wha  came  like  sun-glints  hither, 
To  fill  wi'  joy  their  father's  ha' — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither,  Jeanie — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither. 

In  the  kirkyard  they're  sleepin',  Jeanie — 

In  the  kirkyard  they're  sleepin' : 
It  may  be  grieves  their  happy  souls 

To  see  their  parents  weepin'. 
They're  on  to  bigg  a  hame  for  us, 

Where  flowers  like  them  ne'er  wither, 
Amang  the  starns  in  love  an'  bliss — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither,  Jeanie — 

They're  a'  on  hie  thegither. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  216 

THE  INFANT'S  DYING  WAIL. 
A   PARENTAL   SKETCH   BY   THE   AUTHOR. 

The  midnight  bell  had  toll'd^and  earliest  bird 
Had  loud  proclaimed  the  break  of  coming  day. 
While  yet  the  stars  kept  watch  at  gate  of  heaven, 
And  night  winds  sighed  among  the  leafless  trees. 
But  not  to  seek  repose  had  now  retired 
The  gathered  inmates  of  that  cherished  home. 
In  silence,  sad,  they  stand  collected  round 
The  couch,  on  which  is  laid  a  suffering  babe. 
The  sun  his  yearly  round  had  not  yet  closed, 
Since  first  that  babe  was  ushered  to  the  light, 
Most  welcome  gift  from  God's  paternal  hand. 
In  form  most  fair  and  perfect.     In  spirit 
Warm,  affectionate,  and  ever  mild. 
His  capacious  brow,  and  eye  intelligent. 
Gave  noble  promise  of  the  mighty  powers 
Still  latent,  but  fast  bursting  into  life. 
His  parents  loved  him  much.     Their  hearts  had  bled, 
The  darksome  tomb  within  its  bosom  closed 
The  buried  forms  of  other  children  dear. 
They  therefore  clung  to  him  as  to  the  dead 
Revived — the  lost  ones  found — their  light  and  life. 
For  joy  o'er  him  they  had  forgotten 
The  bitter  anguish  of  that  dreadful  hour. 
When  two  fair  buds  of  life  lay  crushed  and  torn. 
Most  sweet  it  was  to  see  this  opening  flower 
Expand  its  leaves  and  breathe  its  fragrance  forth — 
To  hear  his  infant  prattle — to  behold 
His  looks  of  love,  his  first,  light,  gladsome  steps, 
And  all  the  graces  of  blest  infancy. 
How  have  I  clasped  him  to  this  doting  heart, 
In  all  the  ecstacy  of  untold  jo}"  ; 
And  felt,  while  round  my  neck  his  fond  arms  clung, 
And  his  soft  cheek  press'd  mine,  that  depth  of  bliss 
Unutterable,  which  only  parents  know. 
But  he  was  not  a  destined  heir  of  earth. 
Nor  long  to  tread  its  pilgrimage  of  woe. 
An  angel  he — an  elect  child  of  grace — 
An  heir  of  bliss — a  heaven-ward  voyager. 


S16      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

His  vacant  throne  for  him  was  kept  reserved, 
And  sister  spirits  longed  to  see  him  come. 
A  glorious  crown  of  life,  a  sceptre  bright, 
And  glittering  robes,  awaited  him  above. 
.    God  had  now  called  his  child,  and  forth  had  sen 
The  ministering  host  to  g^iard  him  home. 
And  swift  to  loose  his  bonds  of  earthly  mould, 
To  fierce  disease  had  given  him  a  prey. 
For  ten  long  days  and  nights  the  secret  foe. 
Invisible,  his  dread  commission  filled, 
And  baffled  all  the  art  of  human  skill ; 
Till  now  at  length  in  death's  last  struggles  lay 
The  sinking  form  of  that  most  blessed  child. 
No  cry  escaped  his  lips — no  sigh  his  breast — 
Nor  sign  of  murmuring  by  him  was  given. 
But  calm  he  lay — as  in  God's  arms  outspread — 
As  into  heaven  he  cast  his  blissful  gaze. 
And  even  then  had  taste  of  joys  to  come. 
It  was  the  theme  of  all — I  picture  not — 
How  unrepiningly  he  met  his  fate — 
Amid  despair,  most  tranquil  and  serene ; 
With  tearless  eyes,  while  none  around  were  dry, 
Outworn  with  agony  he  now  lay  stretched 
Upon  his  downy  pillow,  there  to  die. 
Resigned  by  parents'  arms,  he  bid  farewell 
To  earthly  scenes  and  all  terrestrial  joy. 
His  bright  eye  dimmed — his  palsied  limbs  lay  cold 
And  motionless.     His  heaving  breast  rose  high — 
Tifl  with  a  dove-like  wail  he  sunk  to  rest. 

God  speed  thee  in  thy  flight,  my  blessed  boy  I 
Let  angel  bands  conduct  thee  safe  to  heaven. 
There  with  thy  sisters  dear  to  share  its  bliss ! 
Thou  wert  to  me  the  dearest  joy  of  earth, 
And  I  would  now  rejoice  with  thee  above. 
And  chide  my  selfish  grief  with  thoughts  of  thee, 
As  now  enroU'd  among  the  cherub  throng. 
Farewell,  my  boy !  no  more  thy  smile  I'll  see 
Till  thee  I  meet  around  the  throne  of  God. 
But  never  from  this  heart  shall  pass  away 
Thy  dying  form,  and  that  last  dying  wail. 

Charleston,  Nov.  '21th,  1841. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  217 

"OP  SUCH  IS  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN.'*^ 

MARY  S.  B.  DANA. 

I  DEARLY  love  a  little  child, 
And  Jesus  loved  young  children  too  ; 
He  ever  sweetly  on  them  smiled, 
And  placed  them  with  his  chosen  few. 
When,  cradled  on  its  mother's  breast, 
A  babe  was  brought  to  Jesus'  feet, 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  its  head, 
And  bless'd  it  with  a  promise  sweet. 

"  Forbid  them  not !"  the  Saviour  said, 
"  Oh !  suffer  them  to  come  to  me  ! 
Of  such  my  heavenly  kingdom  is — 
Like  them  may  all  my  followers  be  !" 
Young  children  are  the  gems  of  earth. 
The  brightest  jewels  mothers  have  ; 
They  sparkle  on  the  throbbing  breast, 
But  brighter  shine  beyond  the  grave. 


A  MOTHER'S  LAMENT. 

MONTGOMERY. 

I  LOVED  thee,  daughter  of  my  heart ; 

My  child,  I  loved  thee  dearly ; 
And  though  we  only  met  to  part, 

— How  sweetly  !  how  severely  ! — 
Nor  life  nor  death  can  sever 
My  soul  from  thine  forever. 

Thy  days,  my  little  one,  were  few ; 

An  angel's  morning  visit, 
Thatxame  and  vanish'd  with  the  dew; 

'Twas  here,  'tis  gone,  where  is  it? 
Yet  did'st  thou  leave  behind  thee 
A  clue  for  love  to  find  thee. 

The  eye,  the  lip,  the  cheek,  the  brow, 
The  hands  stretch'd  forth  in  gladness, 

All  life,  joy,  rapture,  beauty  now ; 
Then  dash'd  with  infant  sadness ; 
19 


218  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Till,  brightening  by  transition, 
Return'd  the  fairy  vision : — 

Where  are  they  now  ? — those  smiles,  those  tears, 

Thy  mother's  darling  treasure  ? 
She  sees  them  still,  and  still  she  hears 

Thy  tones  of  pain  or  pleasure, 
To  her  quick  pulse  revealing 
Unutterable  feeling. 

Hush'd  in  a  moment  on  her  breast, 
Life,  at  the  well-spring  drinking ; 

Then  cradled  on  her  lap  to  rest 
In  rosy  slumber  sinking, 

Thy  dreams — no  thought  can  guess  them ; 

And  mine — no  tongue  express  them. 

For  then  this  waking  eye  could  see, 

In  many  a  vain  vagary. 
The  things  that  never  were  to  be, 

Imaginations  airy ; 
Fond  hopes  that  mothers  cherish, 
Like  still-born  babes  to  perish. 

Mine  perish' d  on  thy  early  bier ; 

No, — changed  to  forms  more  glorious, 
They  flourish  in  a  higher  sphere, 

O'er  time  and  death  victorious ; 
Yet  would  these  arms  have  chain'd  thee, 
And  long  from  heaven  detain'd  thee. 

Sarah  !  my  last,  my  youngest  love, 

The  crown  of  every  other  ! 
Though  thou  art  born  in  heaven  above, 

I  am  thine  only  mother, 
Nor  will  affection  let  me 
Believe  thou  canst  forget  me. 

Then, — thou  in  heaven  and  I  on  earth, — . 

May  this  one  hope  delight  us, 
That  thou  wilt  hail  my  second  birth, 

When  death  shall  reunite  us, 
Where  worlds  no  more  can  sever 
Parent  and  child  for  ever. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  219 

THE  THREE  SONS ;  OR,  FAITH  TRIUMPHANT. 

BY  REV.  J.  MOULTRIE,  A.M. 

I. 

I  HAVE  a  son,  a  little  son, 

A  boy  just  five  years  old, 
With  eyes  of  thoughtful  earnestness, 

A  mind  of  gentle  mould. 

They  tell  me  that  unusual  grace 

In  all  his  ways  appears. 
That  my  child  is  grave,  and  wise  of  heart, 

Beyond  his  childish  years. 

I  cannot  say  how  this  may  be, 

I  know  his  face  is  fair. 
And  yet  his  chiefest  comeliness 

Is  his  sweet  and  serious  air. 

I  know  his  heart  is  kind  and  fond, 

I  know  he  loveth  me. 
But  he  loveth  yet  his  mother  more, 

With  grateful  fervency. 

But  that  which  others  most  admire, 

Is  the  thought  that  fills  his  mind. 
The  food  for  grave,  inspiring  speech, 

He  everywhere  doth  find. 

Strange  questions  doth  he  ask  of  me. 

When  we  together  walk  ; 
He  scarcely  thinks  as  children  think, 

Or  talks  as  children  talk. 

Nor  cares  he  much  for  childish  sports, 

Dotes  not  on  bat  or  ball. 
But  looks  on  manhood's  ways  and  works, 

And  aptly  mimics  all. 

His  little  heart  is  busy  still, 

And  oftentimes  perplexed 
With  thoughts  about  this  world  of  ours, 

And  thoughts  about  the  next. 


220      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

He  kneels  at  his  dear  mother's  knees, 

She  teaches  him  to  pray, 
And  strange,  and  sweet,  and  solemn,  then, 

Are  the  words  which  he  will  say. 

Oh,  should  my  gentle  child  be  spared, 
To  manhood's  years,  like  me, 

A  holier  and  a  wiser  man 
I  trust  that  he  will  be. 

And  when  I  look  into  his  eyes. 
And  on  his  thoughtful  brow, 

1  dare  not  think  what  I  should  feel, 
Were  I  to  lose  him  now. 


II. 

I  have  a  son,  a  second  son, 

A  simple  child  of  three ; 
I'll  not  declare  how  bright  and  fair 

His  little  features  be. 

I  do  not  think  his  light  blue  eye 

Is  like  his  brother's  keen, 
Nor  his  brow  so  full  of  childish  thought 

As  his  hath  ever  been. 

But  his  little  heart's  a  fountain  pure. 

Of  kind  and  tender  feeling, 
And  his  every  look's  a  gleam  of  light. 

Rich  depths  of  love  revealing. 

When  he  walks  with  me,  the  country  folk, 

Who  pass  us  in  the  street* 
Will  shout  for  joy,  and  bless  my  boy. 

He  looks  so  mild  and  sweet. 

A  playfellow  is  he  to  all, 

And  yet,  with  cheerful  tone. 
Will  sing  his  little  song  of  love. 

When  left  to  sport  alone. 

His  presence  is  like  sunshine,  sent 
To  gladden  home,  the  earthy 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  221 

To  comfort  us  in  all  our  griefs, 
And  sweeten  all  our  mirth. 

Should  he  grow  up  to  riper  years, 

God  grant  his  heart  may  prove. 
As  sweet  a  home  for  heavenly  grace, 

As  now  for  earthly  love. 

And  if,  beside  his  grave,  the  tears 

Our  aching  eyes  must  dim, 
God  comfort  us  for  all  the  love 

Which  we  shall  lose  in  him 


III. 

I  have  a  son,  a  third  sweet  son. 

His  age  I  cannot  telJ, 
For  they  reckon  not  by  years  and  months, 

Where  he  hath  gone  to  dwell. 

To  us,  for  fourteen  anxious  months. 

His  infant  smiles  were  given, 
And  then  he  bade  farewell  to  earth, 

And  went  to  live  in  heaven. 

I  cannot  tell  what  form  is  his, 

What  looks  he  weareth  now, 
Nor  guess  how  bright  a  glory  crowns 

His  shining  seraph  brow. 

The  thoughts  that  fill  his  sinless  soul. 

The  bliss  which  he  doth  feel, 
Are  numbered  with  the  secret  things 

Which  God  will  not  reveal. 

But  I  know,  for  God  hath  told  me  this, 

That  he  is  now  at  rest, 
Where  other  blessed  infants  are. 

On  their  Saviour's  loving  breast. 

Whate'er  befalls  his  brethren  twain, 

His  bliss  can  never  cease ; 
Their  lot  may  here  be  grief  and  fear, 

But  his  is  certain  peace.  ^^'-^    't*i  >«  -^^ 


222  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

It  may  be  that  the  tempter's  wiles 
Their  souls  from  bliss  may  sever, 

But,  if  our  own  poor  faith  fail  not, 
He  must  be  ours  forever. 

When  we  think  on  what  our  darling-  is, 

And  what  we  still  must  be ; 
When  we  muse  on  thai  world's  perfect  bliss, 

And  this  world's  misery ; 

When  we  groan  beneath  this  load  of  sin, 

And  feel  this  grief  and  pain, 
Oh,  we'd  rather  lose  our  other  two. 

Than  have  him  here  again. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  FIRST-BORN. 

ALARIC    A.    WATTS. 

"  Fare  thee  well,  thou  first  and  fairest  ! 
Fare  thee  well,  thou  best  and  dearest  !" 

Burns. 

My  sweet  one,  my  sweet  one !  the  tears  were  in  my  eyes 
When  first  I  clasped  thee  to  my  heart,  and  heard  thy  feeble 

cries ; — 
For  I  thought  of  all  that  I  had  borne  as  I  bent  me  down  to  kiss 
Thy  cherry  lip  and  sunny  brow,  my  first-born  bud  of  bliss  ! 

I  turned  to  many  a  withered  hope, — to  years  of  grief  and 
pain  ; — 

And  the  crue]  wrongs  of  a  bitter  world  flashed  o'er  my  boil- 
ing brain — 

I  thought  of  friends  grown  worse  than  cold,  of  persecuting 
foes, — 

And  I  asked  of  Heaven,  if  ills  like  these  must  mar  thy 
youth's  repose ! 

I  gazed  upon  thy  quiet  face — half  blinded  by  my  tears — 
Till  gleams  of  bliss',  unfelt  before,  came  brightening  on  my 

fears — 
Sweet  rays  of  hope  that  fairer  shone  'mid  the  cloud  of  gloom 

that  bound  them, 
As  stars  dart  down  their  loveliest  light  when  midnight  skies 

are  round  them. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      223 

My  sweet  one,  my  sweet  one  !  thy  life's  brief  hour  is  o'er, 
And  a  father's  anxious  fears  for  thee  can  fever  me  no  more; 
And  for  the  hopes,  the  sunbright  hopes — that  blossomed  at 

thy  birth — 
They  too  have  fled,  to  prove  how  frail  are  cherished  things 

on  earth  ! 

'Tis  true  that  thou  wert  young,  my  child,  but  though  brief 

thy  span  below, 
To  me  it  was  a  little  age  of  agony  and  woe  ; 
For,  from  the  first  faint  dawn  of  life  thy  cheek  began  to 

fade, 
And  my  heart  had  scarce  thy  welcome  breathed,  ere  my 

hopes  were  wrapt  in  shade. 

O  the  child,  in  its  hours  of  health  and  bloom,  that  is  dear  as 

thou  wert  then. 
Grows  far  more  prized — more  fondly  loved — in  sickness  and 

in  pain, 
And  thus  'twas  thine  to  prove,  dear  babe,  when  every  hope 

was  lost, 
Ten  times  more  precious  to  my  soul — for  all  that  thou  hadst 

cost! 

Cradled  in  thy  fair  mother's  arms,  we  watched  thee  day  by 

day. 
Pale,  like  the  second  bow  of  heaven,  as  gently  waste  away  ; 
And,  sick  with  dark  foreboding  fears,  we  dared  not  breathe 

aloud. 
Sat  hand  in  hand,  in  speechless  grief,  to  wait  death's  coming 

cloud. 

It  came  at  length ;  o'er  thy  bright  blue  eye  the  film  was 
gathering  fast, — 

And  an  awful  shade  passed  o'er  thy  brow,  the  deepest  and 
the  last ; — 

In  thicker  gushes  strove  thy  breath, — we  raised  thy  droop- 
ing head, 

A  moment  more — the  final  pang — and  thou  wert  of  the 
dead  ! 

Thy  gentle  mother  turned  away  to  hide  her  face  from  me, 
And  murmured  low  of  Heaven's  behests,  and  bliss  attained 
by  thee ; — 


!^4  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

She  would  have  chid  me  that  I  mourned  a  doom  so  blest  aa 

thine, 
Had  not  her  own  deep  grief  burst  forth  in  tears  as  wild  as 

mine ! 

We'  laid  thee   down  in  sinless  rest,  and  from  thine  infant 

brow 
Culled  one  soft  lock  of  radiant  hair — our  only  solace  now, — 
Then  placed  around  thy  beauteous  corse,  flowers,  not  more 

fair  and  sweet ; 
Twin  rosebuds  in  thy  little  hands,  and  jasmine  at  thy  feet. 

Though  other  offspring  still  be  ours,  as  fair  perchance  as 

thou, 
With  all  the  beauty  of  thy  cheek — the  sunshine  of  thy  brow, 
They  never  can  replace  the  bud  our  early  fondness  nurst, 
They  may  be  lovely  and  beloved,  but  not  like  thee — the 

first! 

The  first !  How  many  a  memory  bright  that  one  sweet 
word  can  bring 

Of  hopes  that  blossomed,  drooped,  and  died,  in  life's  delight- 
ful spring ; 

Of  fervid  feelings  passed  away — those  early  seeds  of  bliss. 

That  germinate  in  hearts  unsered,  by  such  a  world  as  this ! 

My  sweet  one,  my  sweet  one,  my  fairest,  and  my  first ! 
When  I  think  of  what  thou  migh'st  have  been,  my  heart  is 

like  to  burst ; 
But  gleam's  of  gladness  through  the  gloom  their  soothing 

radiance  dart. 
And  my  sighs  are  hush'd,  my  tears  are  dried,  when  I  turn 
^^■"'-      to  what  thou  art ! 

Pure  as  the  snow-flake  ere  it  falls  and  takes  the  stain  of 

earth, 
With  not  a  taint  of  mortal  life,  except  thy  mortal  birth, — 
God  bade  thee  early  taste  the  spring  for  which  so  many 

thirst ; 
And  bliss — eternal  bliss — is  thine,  my  fairest,  and  my  first ! 


aOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  225 


TO  MY  DEPARTED  DAUGHTER. 

From  "  Songs  of  Home.'" 

Brief  time  has  pass'd,  my  buried  love, 

Since,  seated  by  thy  gentle  side, 
A  web  of  future  joy  1  wove, 

With  all  a  father's  fondest  pride : 
Hope's  shuttle  lies  all  idle  now. 
The  thread  is  snapped,  for  where  art  thou  ? 

Thy  glossy  curl  retains  its  sheen. 

The  forehead  where  it  waved  is  dust ; 

And  thus  'twill  be,  has  ever  been. 

With  hopes  which  place  their  joy  and  trust 

On  things  of  earth  ;  the  dearer  they, 

The  sooner  doomed  to  know  decay. 

It  was  such  joy  to  feel  thine  arm. 

Thy  soft  white  arm,  twine  round  my  neck ; 

To  mark  each  day  some  budding  charm 
Steal  forth  in  beauty  free  from  speck, 

That,  gazing  on  thy  dove-like  eye, 

I  half  forgot  that  thou  could'st  die. 

Thy  place  is  vacant  now,  my  sweet, 

Thy  soft,  endearing  tones  I  miss  ; 
No  more  with  light  and  eager  feet 

Thou  com'st  to  claim  a  father's  kiss : 
No  more  thy  arch  and  laughing  eye 
Bids  gay  defiance  to  his  sigh. 

There  is  a  spell  upon  our  home. 

So  mirthful  once,  so  silent  now ; 
Thy  mother's  cheek  has  lost  its  bloom. 

And  grief  lies  heavy  on  her  brow : 
E'en  while  she  bids  me  cease  to  pine. 
Her  tears  gush  forth  and  blend  with  mine. 

Oh !  my  lost  child  !  thou  wert  so  dear,    . 

So  very  dear  to  heart  and  eye  ; 
So  blooming,  that  the  cloud  of  fear 

Ne'er  shadow'd  o'er  hope's  rosy  sky. 
It  came  at  length,  a  night  of  doom,  •^' 

And  turned  our  day  to  deepest  gloom.  '•'' 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

The  grass  above  thy  grave  is  green, 
And  fresh  as  hope  was  wont  to  be  ; 

But  never  in  our  home,  I  ween. 
Will  joy  shoot  forth  as  cheeringly 

As  erst  it  did,  my  gentle  child. 

When  thy  dear  eyes  upon  us  smiled. 


TO  A  WIFE  ON  HER  INDULGENCE  OP  SORROW. 

From  "Songs  of  Home." 

I  WOULD  not  chide  thee,  my  lov'd  wife, 

But  still  I  grieve  to  see 
Thy  spirit  thus  with  God  at  strife, — 

Thus  mourning  his  decree  ; 
It  is  not  well,  my  gentle  one. 

To  rivet  sorrow's  chains. 
And  in  our  grief  for  blessings  gone, 

Forget  how  much  remains. 

'Tis  true  a  fount  of  joy  has  closed, 

As  holy  as  'twas  sweet ; 
The  smiles  on  which  our  souls  reposed, 

No  more  our  bosoms  greet. 
Our  spirit's  star  has  lost  its  light, 

And  set  no  more  to  rise  ; 
But  there  are  others  warm  and  bright 

In  our  domestic  skies : — 

Two  hearts  which  never  yet  have  known 

Love's  "sere  and  yellow  leaf;" 
Two  souls,  the  concord  of  whose  tone 

Has  been  unmarred  in  grief: 
A  fond  esteem  which  passing  years 

Have  made  more  fond  and  warm, — 
These,  then,  are  but  ungrateful  tears, 

Which  steal  from  life  its  charms. 

Then  grieve  not,  love,  our  child  is  bless'd, 

Our  loss  has  been  her  gain  ; 
Her  sainted  spirit  knows  a  rest 

Which  has  no  dream  of  pain  ; 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      287 

If  fondly  still  she  hovers  near 

Around  her  once  glad  home, 
Say,  would  it  not  her  bliss  impair 

To  see  her  mother's  gloom  ? 


SONNET. 

EMILY  TAYLOR. 

Mother,  revere  God's  image  in  thy  child ! 

No  earthly  gift  thy  parent  arms  enfold  ; 

No  mortal  tongue  as  yet  the  worth  hath  told 
Of  that  which  in  thy  bosom,  meek  and  mild. 
Rests  its  weak  head.     O,  not  by  sense  beguiled 

Gaze  on  that  form  of  perishable  mould ; 
Though  first  by  thee  it  lived,  on  thee  it  smiled, 

Yet  not  for  thee  existence  must  it  hold, 
For  God's  it  is,  not  thine.     Thou  art  but  one 

To  whom  that  happy  destiny  is  given. 
To  see  an  everlasting  life  begun, 

To  watch  the  dawnings  of  the  future  heaven, 
And  to  be  such  in  purity  and  love 
As  best  may  win  it  to  that  life  above ! 


THE  CHILDREN  WHOM  JESUS  BLEST. 

MRS.    HEMANS. 

Happy  were  they,  the  mothers,  in  whose  sight 
Ye  grew,  fair  children  !  hallowed  from  that  hour 
By  your  Lord's  blessing  !  surely  thence  a  shower 

Of  heavenly  beauty,  a  transmitted  light 

Hung  on  your  brows  and  eyelids,  meekly  bright, 
Through  all  the  after  years  which  saw  ye  move 

Lowly,  yet  still  majestic,  in  the  might, 

The  conscious  glory  of  the  Saviour's  love  ! 

And  honoured  be  all  childhood,  for  the  sake 
Of  that  high  love !     Let  reverential  care 

Watch  to  behold  the  immortal  spirit  wake, 
And  shield  its  first  bloom  from  unholy  air ; 

Owning  in  each  young  suppliant  glance  the  sign 

Of  claims  upon  a  heritage  divine. 


2S^  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 
jFVom  "  Sacred  Dyrics,"  by  R.  Huie. 

The  room  was  narrow,  chill,  and  low ; 

And  from  the  casement  small 
Scarce  light  enough  was  thrown,  to  show 

The  damp  and  dingy  wall. 
Beneath  whose  shade,  on  pallet  bare. 
Was  stretched  an  humble  child  of  pray'r. 

Eight  times  the  summer's  breeze  has  fann'd 

His  little  pensive  brow  ; 
But  ah  !  the  lank  and  icy  hand 

Of  death  is  on  it  now  : 
And  fast  he  journeys  to  the  bourne, 
From  which  no  traveller  returns. 

His  wasted  limbs,  his  fevered  cheek, 

His  faint  and  ghastly  smile 
Of  deep  decay  and  suffering  speak  ; — 

And  yet  his  lips  the  while 
For  naught  but  faith  in  Jesus  pray, 
And  patience  in  this  trying  day. 

His  mother  o'er  his  pillow  bends, 

To  watch  his  spirit  part, 
And  much  support  his  converse  lends 

To  her  lone  widowed  heart : 
For  she,  too,  shares  the  inward  joy 
And  peace,  which  cheer  the  dying  boy. 

"  Dfear  mother,"  says  he,  "  cease  to  weep, 

Of  hope  my  soul  is  full ; 
But  O !  my  little  brothers  keep 

At  that  blest  Sabbath  school, 
To  which  I,  under  Jesus,  owe 
What  I  of  grace  and  mercy  know. 

And  when,  by  father's  lonely  bed. 

You  place  me  in  the  ground ; 
And  his  green  turf,  with  daisies  spread, 

Has  also  wrapt  me  round  ; 
Rejoice  to  think,  to  you  'tis  given, 
To  have  a  ransomed  child  in  heaven  I" 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      229 

O  Lord !  how  oft  do  sucklings'  lips 

Thy  matchless  praise  declare ! 
How  oft  in  faith  do  babes  eclipse 

The  man  of  hoary  hair  ! 
But  such  is  Thine  unerring  will, 
In  grace  and  nature  sovereign  still ! 


THE  MOTHER  AND  HER  DYING  BOY. 
BOY. 

My  mother,  my  mother,  O  let  me  depart ! 

Your  tears  and  your  pleadings  are  swords  to  my  heart. 

I  hear  gentle  voices,  that  chide  my  delay  ; 

I  see  lovely  visions  that  woo  me  away. 

My  prison  is  broken,  my  trials  are  o'er ! 

0  mother,  my  mother,  detain  me  no  more  ! 

MOTHER. 

And  will  you  then  leave  us,  my  brightest,  my  best? 
And  will  you  run  nestling  no  more  to  my  breast  ? 
The  summer  is  coming  to  sky  and  to  bower ; 
The  tree  that  you  planted  will  soon  be  in  flower ; 
You  loved  the  soft  season  of  song  and  of  bloom ; 
O,  shall  it  return,  and  find  you  in  the  tomb  ?  , 

BOY. 

Yes,  mother,  I  loved  in  the  sunshine  to  play, 
And  talk  with  the  birds  and  blossoms  all  day : 
But  sweeter  the  songs  of  the  spirits  on  high, 
And  brighter  the  glories  round  God  in  the  sky: 

1  see  them !  F  hear  them !  they  pull  at  my  heart ! 
My  mother,  my  mother,  O  let  me  depart ! 

MOTHER. 

0  do  not  desert  us!     Our  hearts  will  be  drear, 
Our  home  will  be  lonely,  when  you  are  not  here. 
Your  brother  will  sigh  'mid  his  playthings,  and  say, 

1  wonder  dear  William  so  long  can  delay : 

That  foot  like  the  wild  wind,  that  glance  like  a  star, 
O  what  will  this  world  be,  when  they  are  afar  ? 


This  world,  dearest  mother  !  O  live  not  for  this ; 
No,  press  on  with  me  to  the  fulness  of  bliss  I 
20 


230  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

And,  trust  me,  whatever  bright  fields  I  may  roam, 
My  heart  will  not  wander  from  you  and  from  home. 
Believe  me  still  near  you  on  pinions  of  love ; 
,  Expect  me  to  hail  you  when  soaring  above. 

MOTHER. 

Well,  go,  my  beloved  !     The  conflict  is  o'er ; 
My  pleas  are  all  selfish ;  I  urge  them  no  more. 
Why  chain  your  bright  spirit  down  here  to  the  clod, 
So  thirsting  for  freedom,  so  ripe  for  its  God  ? 
Farewell,  then !  farewell,  till  we  meet  at  the  Throne, 
Where  love  fears  no  partings,  and  tears  are  unknown ! 

BOY. 

0  glory  !  O  glory  !  what  music  I  what  light ! 
What  wonders  break  in  on  my  heart,  on  my  sight ! 

1  come,  blessed  spirits !  I  hear  you  from  high ; 
O  frail,  faithless  nature,  can  this  be  to  die  ? 

So  near !  what,  so  near  to  my  Saviour  and  King  1 
O  help  me,  ye  angels.  His  glories  to  sing ! 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  CHILD. 

J.    CUNNINGHAM. 

Yes,  thou  art  fled,  and  saints  a  welcome  sing ; 
Thine  infant  spirit  soars  on  angel  wing ; 
Our  dark  aflection  might  have  hoped  thy  stay, — 
The  voice  of  God  has  call'd  the  child  away. 
Like  Samuel  early  in  the  temple  found — 
Sweet  rose  of  Sharon,  plant  of  holy  ground, 
O  !  more  than  Samuel  blessed,  to  thee  is  given. 
The  God  he  served  on  earth  to  serve  in  heaven. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  231 

The  following  beautiful  lines  will  touch  a  chord  in 
many  a  maternal  heart,  wounded  by  the  hand  of 
death,  and  sorrowing  for  those  whom  God  has  perhaps 
in  mercy  taken  from  the  conflicts  of  life. 

HOURS  OP  A  BEREAVED  MOTHER. 

BY    MRS.    H.    M.    DODGE. 

And  I  am  left !     There  is  a  strange  delight 

In  counting  o'er  one's  bitterness,  to  cull 

A  flower  of  comfort  from  it.     I  am  left 

To  hear  the  gathering  storms  of  life,  my  child, 

Still  tempest-tost  upon  its  dangerous  seas, 

While  thou  art  safely  moored.     Thy  little  barque 

Is  anchored  in  the  haven  where  the  winds 

Of  sorrow  never  blow.     Thy  star  has  risen 

In  climes  of  peace  and  love,  to  set  no  more 

For  ever  and  for  ever.     All  thy  life 

Was  like  a  rose-bud — like  the  gentle  breath 

Of  purest  fragrance,  wafted  on  the  wing 

Of  early  Zephyr — like  the  opening  ray 

Of  morning's  softest  blush.     Thy  little  heart 

Had  never  tasted  w^o.     Thy  infant  breast 

Was  heaven's  own  dwelling  place — it  never  knew 

The  touch  of  aught  save  innocence  and  love. 

*         *         *         *         Blessed  child ! 
Thy  lot  on  earth  was  bright,  and  now  thou  art 
With  holy  angels.     I  will  cease  to  mourn  ! 
Oh  !  had  I  loved  thee  less,  my  foolish  heart 
Had  sighed  to  keep  thee  in  this  changing  world — 
Had  fastened  thee  to  life,  'till  thou  hadst  drained 
Its  very  dregs  of  wo  !     Never  !  O,  never 
Could  I  have  knelt  and  kissed  the  chast'ning  rod 
With  such  unfeigned  submission.     Never  !  never 
Could  I  have  looked  so  calmly  on  the  smile 
Thy  parting  spirit  left,  had  my  fond  soul 
Less  dotingly  hung  o'er  thee  in  thy  life — 
Less  proudly  treasured  up  thy  darling  name 
In  the  deep  recess  of  my  heart.     But  now 
Our  very  lives  were  one.     There  could  not  be 
A  deeper,  purer  tenderness,  than  heaved 


232^  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

This  trembling  breast  for  thee.     How  could  I  then 

Ask  aught  for  thee  but  happiness  ?     In  life, 

When  thou  wast  closely  folded  in  these  arms, 

And  I  did  feel  thy  warm  breath  on  my  cheek, 

Thy  smiling  eyes  fixed  tenderly  on  mine, 

My  prayers  were  full  of  pleadings,  agonies 

Almost  of  earnestness,  that  heaven  would  bless 

Thy  opening  day  with  joy  and  every  good 

That  might  be  deemed  most  proper.     Oh,  are  not 

These  prayers  most  fully  answered?     Could  my  soul 

In  all  its  deepest  gush  of  tenderness. 

Have  asked  a  holier  boon — a  blessedness 

More  durable,  more  mfinite  and  pure, 

More  like  the  nature  of  a  God  to  give, 

Than  heaven's  own  self,  with  all  its  blessed  ones. 

Its  high  society,  its  holy  love, 

Its  rapturous  songs  of  gratitude  and  praise, 

Its  pure  celestial  streams,  and  fruits,  and  flowers, 

And  glorious  light  reflected  from  the  face 

Of  God's  eternal  Son  ?     Could  I  have  claimed 

A  HIGHER  boon,  my  precious  babe,  for  thee  ? 

And  then,  again,  to  be  exempt  from  wo 

And  human  suffering,  for  ever  free 

From  all  the  toils,  and  pains,  and  nameless  cares 

That  gather  with  our  years — and  oh  !  perchance, 

At  last  a  hopeless  death  !     Oh  !  I  could  weep 

With  very  gratitude  that  thou  art  saved — 

Thy  soul  FOR  EVER  SAVED.     What  though  my  heart 

Should  bleed  at  every  pore — still  thou  art  blessed. 

There  is  an  hour,  my  precious  innocent. 

When  we  shall  meet  again  !     Oh  !  may  we  meet 

To  separate  no  more.     Yes  !  I  can  smile. 

And  sing  with  gratitude,  and  weep  with  joy, 

Even  while  my  heart  is  breaking  ! 


THE  LOST  ONE. 

MARY  HOWITT. 


We  meet  around  the  hearth — thou  art  not  there, 
Over  our  household  joys  hath  passed  a  gloom : 

Beside  the  Are  we  see  thy  empty  chair,  ^    ^ 

And  miss  thy  sweet  voice  in  the  silent  room.— ■^^^"' 


SQLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      233 

What  hopeless  longings  after  thee  arise  ! 

Even  for  the  touch  of  thy  small  hand  I  nine, 
And  for  the  sound  of  thy  dear  little  feet — 
Alas  !  tears  dim  my  eyes, 
Meeting  in  every  place  some  joy  of  thine, 
Or  when  fair  children  pass  me  in  the  street. 

Beauty  was  on  thy  cheek — and  thou  didst  seem 
A  privileged  being — chartered  from  decay ; 

And  thy  free  spirit,  like  a  mountain  stream 
That  hath  no  ebb,  kept  on  its  cheerful  way : 
Thy  laugh  was  like  the  inspiring  breath  of  spring, 

That  thrills  the  heart,  and  cannot  be  unfelt ; 

The  sun,  the  moon,  the  green  leaves,  and  the  flowers. 
And  every  living  thing, 

Were  a  strong  joy  to  thee — thy  spirit  dwelt 
Gladly  in  life,  rejoicing  in  its  powers. 

Oh !  what  had  Death  to  do  with  one  like  thee  ? 

Thou  young  and  loving  one,  whose  soul  did  cling, 
Even  as  the  ivy  clings  unto  the  tree. 

To  those  who  loved  thee — thou  whose  tears  would  spring, 

Dreadmg  a  short  day's  absence,  didst  thou  go 
Alone  into  the  future  world  unseen. 

Solving  each  awful,  untried  mystery, 
The  unknown  to  know, 
To  be  where  mortal  traveller  hath  not  been — 

Whence  welcome  tidings  cannot  come  from  thee  ? 

My  happy  boy ! — and  murmur  I,  that  death 

Over  thy  young  and  buoyant  frame  had  power  ? 

In  yon  bright  land,  love  never  perisheth, 

Hope  may  not  mock,  nor  grief  the  heart  devour: 
The  beautiful  are  round  thee — thou  dost  keep 

Within  the  Eternal  Presence,  and  no  more 
Mayst  death,  or  pain,  or  separation  dread : 
Thy  bright  eyes  cannot  weep, 

Nor  they  with  whom  thou  art  thy  loss  deplore, 
For  ye  are  of  the  living — not  the  dead. 

Thou  dweller  with  the  Unseen,  who  hast  explored 

The  immense  unknown— thou  to  whom  Death  and  Heaven 
20* 


234      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Are  mysteries  no  more,  whose  soul  is  stored 

With  knowledge  for  which  men  have  vainly  striven, 
Beloved  child  !  oh  when  shall  I  lie  down 
With  thee  beneath  fair  trees  that  cannot  fade? 

When  from  the  immortal  rivers  quench  my  thirst? 
Life's  morning  passeth  on, 

Noon  speeds,  and  cometh  the  dim  evening's  shade 
And  night: — anon  is  every  cloud  dispersed, 

And  o'er  the  hills  of  Heaven  the  Eternal  Day  shall  burst! 


A  FATHER'S  LAMENT. 

WILLIAM  HO  WITT. 

*'Thou  takest  not  away,  O  death  I 
Thou  strik'st — and  absence  perisheth  ; 

Indifference  is  no  more  : 
The  future  brightens  on  our  sight, 
For  on  the  past  is  fallen  a  light 
That  tempts  us  to  adore." 

Wordsworth. 

Two  creatures  of  a  pleasant  Jife  were  mine ; 
My  house  they  filled  with  a  perpetual  joy  ; 
Twin  lamps  that  chased  all  darkness  did  they  shine — 
My  fairy  girl  and  merry-hearted  boy. 
1  never  dreamed  Death  would  their  mirth  destroy, 
For  they  were  dwelling  'mid  life's  freshest  springs. 
And  I  was  busied  Avith  a  fond  employ, 
Ranging  the  future  on  Hope's  fearless  wings. 
And  gathering  for  them  thence  how  many  pleasant  things  I 

In  truth,  I  was  a  proud  and  joyful  man, 
As  from  the  floor  unto  the  very  roof 
Their  murmured  bursts  of  joy  and  laughter  ran, 
And  jocund  shouts  which  needed  no  reproof — 
All  weariness,  all  gloom  was  kept  aloof. 
By  their  quaint  shows  and  fancies  ever  new, 
Now  bending  age  with  staff  in  its  behoof. 
Now  Island  Crusoe  and  "  Man  Friday"  true, 
Now  shipmates  far  at  sea  with  all  their  jovial  crew. 

But  a  dark  dream  has  swept  across  my  brain, 
A  wild,  a  dismal  dream  that  will  not  break — 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      235 

A  rush  of  fear — an  agony  of  pain — 
Pangs  and  suspense  that  inly  made  me  quake. — 
My  boy  !  my  boy  !   I  saw  thy  sweet  eyes  take 
A  strange  unearthly  lustre,  and  then  fade  ; 
And  oh  !  I  deemed  my  heart  must  surely  break, 
As,  stooping,  I  thy  pleasant  locks  surveyed, 
And  felt  that  thou  must  die,  and  they  in  dust  be  laid. 

Oh !  precious  in  thy  life  of  happiness ! 
Daily  and  hourly  valued  more  and  more, 
Yet,  to  the  few  brief  days  of  thy  distress, 
How  faint  all  love  my  spirit  knew  before ! 
I  turn  and  turn,  and  ponder  o'er  and  o'er, 
Insatiate,  all  that  sad  and  dreamy  time 
Thy  words  thrill  through  me — in  my  fond  heart's  core 
I  heard  thy  sighs,  and  tears  shed  for  no  crime, 
And  thy  most  patient  love  sent  from  a  happier  clime. 

How  dim  and  dismal  is  my  home ! — a  sense 
Of  thee  spreads  through  it  like  a  haunting  ill ; 
For  thou — for  ever,  thou  hast  vanished  thence  ! 
This — this  pursues  me,  pass  where'er  1  will, 
And  all  the  traces  thou  hast  left  but  fill 
The  hollow  of  thine  absence  with  more  pain  ; 
I  toil  to  keep  thy  living  image  still. 
But  fancy  feebly  doih  her  part  maintain  ; 
I  see,  yet  see  thee  not,  my  child !   as  I  would  fain. 

In  dreams  for  ever  thy  dear  form  I  grasp, 
In  noonday  reveries  do  I  rove — then  start — 
And  certainty,  as  with  an  iron  clasp, 
Shuts  down  once  more  to  misery  my  heart ; 
The  world  from  thee  as  a  shorn  flower  doth  part, 
Ending  its  care  and  knowledge  with  "  Farewell !" 
But  in  my  soul  a  shrined  life  thou  art. 
Ordained  with  memory  and  strong  hope  to  dwell. 
And  with  all  pure  desires  to  sanctify  thy  cell. 

Spring  like  a  spirit  is  upon  the  earth — 

Forth  gush  the  flowers  and  fresh  leaves  of  the  tree, 

And  I  had  planned,  with  wonder  and  with  mirth — 

The  bird,  the  nest,  the  blossom,  and  the  bee 

To  fill  thy  boyish  bosom — till  its  glee 

O'erflowed  my  own  with  transport !     In  far  yeaM 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

I  felt  thy  hand  in  mine,  by  stream  and  lea, 
Wandering  in  gladness — But  these  blinding  tears, 
Why  will  they  thus  gush  forth,  though  richer  hope  appears  ? 

Far  other  land  thy  happy  feet  have  trod. 
Far  other  scenes  thy  tender  soul  has  known — 
The  golden  city  of  the  eternal  God, 
The  rainbow-splendours  of  the  eternal  throne. 
Through  the  pearl  gate  how  lightly  hast  thou  flown  ! 
The  streets  of  lucid  gold — the  chrysolite 
Foundations  have  received  thee — dearest  one  ! 
That  thought  alone  can  break  affliction's  might, 
Feeling  that  thou  art  blest,  my  heart  again  is  light. 

Thanks  to  the  framer  of  life's  mystery  ! 
Thanks  to  the  illuminator  of  the  grave ! 
Vainly  on  time's  obscure  and  tossing  sea 
Hope  did  I  seek,  and  comfort  did  I  crave  ;    • 
But  He  who  made,  neglecteth  not  to  save — 
My  child  I — thou  hast  allied  mc  to  the  blest : 
I  cannot  fear  what  thou  didst  meekly  brave ; 
I  cannot  cease  to  long  with  thee  to  rest ; 
And  heaven  is  doubly  heaven  with  thee,  with  thee  possessed. 


THE  MOURNER'S  RETURN. 
BY    SIR    r.    HESKETH    FLEETWOOD,    BART.,  M.  F. 

These  lines,  written  after  accompanying  the  remains 
of  a  loved  and  last  child  from  London  to  the  family 
resting  place  in  Lancashire,  were  merely  intended  for 
private  perusal  among  those  interested  in  the  beautiful^ 
too  highly  gifted  deceased. — Lancaster  Erig.  Herald 

"  Who  kuoweth  not,  in  all  these,  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath 
wrought  this  ?  In  whose  hand  is  the  soul  of  every  living  thing,  and 
the  breath  of  all  mankind." — Johy  ch.  xii. 

Home  of  my  happier  days !  we  meet  once  more, 
Yet  meet  we  not  as  we  have  met  before : — 
Alone  and  desolate  thy  hall  I  tread. 
Widowed  and  childless !  mourning  o'er  the  dead. 
Yet  murmuring  not  that  all  have  passed  away, 
I  know,  'twas  right,  and  though  I  feel — obey. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      237 

There  was  a  time  recalled  by  clinging  thought, 
When  children  clustered  round  the  hearth  I  sought, — 
When  love  e'er  welcomed  me — when  I  could  turn 
To  clasp  my  treasures — not  embrace  an  urn. 

Bright  spirits !  from  your  angel  realm  above, 
If  ye  have  watched  a  father's  tears  and  love, — 
Behold  him  seated  near  the  silent  dead, 
Tears  of  too  late  repentance  vainly  shed, 
Mourning  in  bitterness  of  spirit,  o'er 
Lost  joys  he  prized  not  half  enough  before. 

All  memory  darkened — hope  o'ercast  a  gloom, — 

The  past,  the  present,  and  the  time  to  come, 

AH,  all  alike — save  that,  through  Faith,  mine  eye 

Assays  to  pierce  into  Eternity  ! 

Then  glorious  all  appear  ;  no  sin,  no  death, 

No  sinking  spirit,  and  no  failing  breath. 

No  fell  disease  to  blight  each  bud  of  joy  ; 

Hope  without  sorrow — peace  without  alloy ! 

Father  of  Mercies !  may  redemption  bring 
To  my  crushed  soul  "  a  healing  on  its  wing :" 
Shed  o'er  me,  Lord,  if  so  thy  will  design, 
(For  thou  alone  hast  power)  thy  peace  divine ; 
Blot  out  my  sins,  bend  low  my  stubborn  will, 
And — as  thou  hast  been — be  my  Father  still ! 

Lead  me  to  Heaven — to  those  thou  led'st  before, 
And,  through  my  Saviour,  open  mercy's  door ; 
That  I  may  feel,  whate'er  my  sorrows  be, 
"  /  go  to  them — though  they  come  not  to  me.''^ 

RossALL  Hall. 


A  DIRGE. 

From  Blackwood's  Edinburgh  Magazine. 

Weep  not  for  her ! — Oh  she  was  far  too  fair, 
Too  pure  to  dwell  on  this  guilt-tainted  earth ! 
The  sinless  glory,  and  the  golden  air 

Of  Zion,  seemed  to  claim  her  from  her  birth  ! 
A  spirit  wandering  from  its  native  zone. 
Which,  soon  discov'ring,  took  her  for  its  own  : 
Weep  not  for  her  ! 


238  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Weep  not  for  her ! — Her  span  was  like  the  sky, 
Whose  thousand  stars  shine  beautiful  and  bright ; 

Like  flowers  that  know  not  what  it  is  to  die  ; 

Like  long-link'd  shadeless  months  of  Polar  light ; 

Like  music  floating  o'er  a  waveless  lake, 

Whil-e  Echo  answers  from  the  flowery  brake : 
Weep  not  for  her ! 

Weep  not  for  her ! — She  died  in  early  youth, 
Ere  hope  had  lost  its  rich  romantic  hues ; 

When  human  bosoms  seem'd  the  homes  of  truth, 
And  earth  still  gleam'd  with  beauty's  radiant  dews, 

Her  summer-prime  waned  not  to  days  that  freeze ; 

Her  wine  of  life  was  run  not  to  the  lees : 
Weep  not  for  her ! 

Weep  not  for  her ! — By  fleet  or  slow  decay, 
It  never  griev'd  her  bosom's  core  to  mark 

The  playmates  of  her  childhood  wane  away ; 
Her  prospects  wither  ;  or  her  hopes  grow  dark ; 

Translated  by  her  God,  with  spirits  shriven, 

She  passed  as  'twere  in  smiles  from  earth  to  Heaven. 
Weep  not  for  her ! 

Weep  not  for  her ! — It  w^as  not  hers  to  feel 
The  miseries  that  corrode  amassing  years, 

'Gainst  dreams  of  bafiied  bliss  the  heart  to  steel, 
To  wander  sad  down  Age's  vale  of  tears, 

As  whirl  the  wither' d  leaves  from  Friendship's  tree, 

And  on  earth's  wintry  world  alone  to  be: 
Weep  not  for  her ! 

Weep  not  for  her ! — She  is  an  angel  now, 
And  treads  the  sapphire  floors  of  Paradise, 

All  darkness  wiped  from  her  refulgent  brow, 
Sin,  sorrow,  suffering,  banished  from  her  eyee ; 

Victorious  over  death,  to  her  appear 

The  vista'd  joys  of  Heaven's  eternal  year : 
Weep  not  for  her ! 

Weep  not  for  her !— Her  memory  is  the  shrine 
Of  pleasing  thoughts,  soft  as  the  scent  of  flowers, 

Calm  as  on  windless  eve  the  sun's  decline, 

Sweet  as  the  song  of  birds  among  the  bowers ; 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.       239 

Rich  as  a  rainbow  with  its  hues  of  light, 
Pure  as  the  moonshine  of  afi  autumn  night : 
Weep  not  for  her  ! 

Weep  not  for  her ! — There  is  no  cause  for  wo ; 

But  rather  nerve  the  spirit,  that  it  walk 
Unshrinkmg  o'er  the  thorny  paths  below, 

And  from  earth's  low  defilements  keep  thee  back : 
So,  when  a  few  fleet  severing  years  have  flown. 
She'll  meet  thee  at  Heaven's  gate — and  lead  thee  on  ! 
Weep  not  for  her ! 


LITTLE  LEONARD'S  LAST  "GOOD-NIGHT.' 

"  GooD-NiGHT  !  good-night !  I  go  to  sleep," 

Murmured  the  little  child  ; — 
And,  oh,  the  ray  of  heaven  that  broke 
On  the  sweet  lips  that  faintly  spoke 

That  soft  "  Good-night !"  and  smiled* 

That  angel-smile !  that  loving  look 

From  the  dim  closing  eyes  ! 
The  peace  of  that  pure  brow !  but  there — > 
Aye — on  that  brow,  so  young,  so  fair  ! 

An  awful  shadow  lies. 

The  gloom  of  evening — of  the  boughs 

That  o'er  yon  window  wave — 
Nay,  nay,  within  these  silent  walls, 
A  deeper,  darker  shadow  falls, 

The  twilight  of  the  grave. 

The  twilight  of  the  grave — for  still 

Fast  comes  the  fluttering  breath — 
07ie  fading  smile,  one  look  of  love, 
A  murmur,  as  from  brooding  dove — 
"  Good-night !" — And  this  is  death  I 

Oh,  who  hath  called  thee  "  terrible  !" 

Mild  angel !  most  benign  ! 
Could  mother's  fondest  lullaby 
Have  laid  to  rest  more  blissfully 

That  sleeping  babe,  than  thine  ! 


240  SOLACE    FOR    BER.AVED    PARENTS. 

Yet  this  is  death — the  docm  for  all 

Of  Adam's  race  decreec' — 
"  But  this  poor  lamb — this  little  one  ! 
What  had  the  guiltless  creature  done  ?" 

Unhappy  heart !  take  heed  ; 

Though  He  is  merciful  as  just 

Who  hears  that  fond  appeal — 
He  will  not  break  the  bruised  reed, 
He  will  not  search  the  wounds  that  bleed — 

He  only  wounds  to  heal. 

"  Let  little  children  come  to  me  " 

He  cried,  and  to  his  breast 
Folded  them  tenderly — to-day 
He  calls  thine  unshorn  lamb  away 

To  that  securest  rest ! 

Blackwood. 


THE  INFANT'S  MINIATURE. 

Yes  !  thou  are  here,  my  sainted  babe  ! 

Thy  lustrous  eyes  of  blue — 
The  long  dark  fringe  which  o'er  them  sleip, 

As  silken  curtains  drew — 
The  full  red  lip,  the  dimpled  cheek, 

The  polished,  lofty  brow — 
The  matchless  smile  that  lighted  all — 

They're  here  before  me  now. 

Yet  years,  long  years,  have  passed  away, 

Since  I,  a  mother  blest, 
And  thou,  a  babe  too  fair  for  earth, 

Didst  nestle  to  this  breast. 
Thy  rosy  dreams  were  not  more  sweet 

Than  were  the  moments  then ; 
But  all  their  joys  are  numbered  now 

With  pleasures  that  have  been. 

The  most  that  I  retain  of  thee 

Is  one  small  sunny  curl ; 
A  treasure  I  would  not  exchange 

For  ocean's  rarest  pearl ; 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      241 

Though  this  bright  picture,  true  to  life, 

Recalls  thy  infant  charms 
So  vividly,  I  seem  again 

To  clasp  thee  in  my  arms. 

'Tis  beautiful  to  look  upon — 

But  only  doth  portray 
The  casket,  which  a  jewel  held 

That  God  hath  borne  away  ; 
For  shining  in  His  dazzling  crown, 

Is  many  an  infant  gem. 
And  he  required  this  precious  one 

To  deck  that  diadem. 

And  O !  to  paint  a  cherub  soul, 

In  vain  the  artist  tries ! 
For  this^  his  pencil  must  be  dipped 

In  azure  of  the  skies ; 
Borrow  the  rainbow's  hue,  and  make 

The  glittering  stars  its  own  ; 
For  angel  beauty  never  yet 

In  earthly  colours  shone. 

So  let  me  think  of  thee,  my  babe ! 

As  when  thou  wert  of  earth ; 
And,  hke  this  picture,  radiant  with 

The  smiles  of  infant  mirth. 
Forget  the  dismal  hour  when  God 

Recalled  what  he  had  given, 
And  hope  to  see  thee  as  thou  art, 

And  claim  thee  still  in  heaven  I 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST. 

Time  hath  not  power  to  bear  away     . 

Thine  image  from  the  heart, 
No  scenes  that  mark  life's  onward  way 

Can  bid  it  hence  depart. 
Yet,  while  our  souls  with  anguish  riven, 

Mourn,  loved  and  lost,  for  thee, 
We  raise  our  tearful  eyes  to  heaven. 

And  joy  that  thou  art  free. 
21 


242      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

We  miss  thee  from  the  band  so  dear, 

That  gathers  round  our  hearth, 
We  listen  still  thy  voice  to  hear 

Amid  our  household  mirth — 
We  gaze  upon  thy  vacant  chair, 

Thy  form  we  seem  to  see, 
We  start  to  find  thou  art  not  there. 

Yet  joy  that  thou  art  free. 

A  thousand  old,  familiar  things. 

Within  our  childhood's  home, 
Speak  of  the  cherished,  absent  one. 

Who  never  more  shall  come. 
They  virake  with  mingled  bliss  and  pain 

Fond  memories  of  thee. 
But  would  we  call  thee  back  again  ? 

We  joy  that  thou  art  free  ! 

Amid  earth's  conflict,  wo  and  care. 

When  dark  our  path  appears, 
'Tis  sweet  to  know,  thou  canst  not  share" 

Our  anguish  and  our  tears — 
That  on  thy  head  no  more  shall  fall 

The  storms  we  may  not  flee — 
Yes.  safely  sheltered  from  them  all, 

We  joy  that  thou  art  free. 

For  thou  hast  gained  a  brighter  land, 

And  death's  cold  stream  is  past — 
Thine  are  the  joys  at  God's  right  hand, 

That  shall  forever  last : 
A  crown  is  on  thine  angel  brow. 

Thine  eye  the  King  doth  see. 
Thy  home  is  with  the  seraphs  now — 

We  joy  that  thou  art  free  ! 


HYMN  AT  TUE  BURIAI,  OP  AN  EMIGRANT'S  CHILD. 

BY    MRS.    HEMANB. 

Where  the  long  reeds  quiver, 

Where  the  pines  make  moian, 
3y  the  forest  river,  h   frnotv 

bleeps  our  babe  alone.  -j:     ^  '^ 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  243 

England's  field-flowers  may  not  deck  his  grave, 
Cyprus  shadows  o'er  him  darkly  wave.     . 

Woods  unknown  receive  him, 

'Midst  the  mighty  wild  ; 
Yet  with  God  we  leave  him. 
Blessed,  blessed  child ! 
And  our  tears  gush  o'er  his  lonely  dust, 
Mournfully,  yet  still  from  hearts  of  trust, 

Though  his  eye  hath  brightened 

Oft  our  weary  way, 
And  his  clear  laugh  lightened 
Half  our  heart's  dismay ; 
Still  in  hope  we  give  back  what  was  given, 
Yielding  up  the  beautiful  to  heaven. 

And  to  her  who  bore  him, 

Her  who  long  must  weep. 
Yet  shall  heaven  restore  him 
From  his  pale  sweet  sleep  ! 
Those  blue  eyes  of  love  and  peace  again 
Through  her  soul  will  shine,  undimmed  by  pain. 

Where  the  long  reeds  quiver. 

Where  the  pines  make  moan, 
Leave  me  by  the  river. 
Earth  to  earth  alone  ! 
God  and  Father  !  may  our  journeyings  on 
Lead  to  where  the  blessed  boy  is  gone. 

From  the  exile's  sorrow. 

From  the  wanderer's  dread 
Of  the  night  and  morrow, 
Early,  brightly  fled ; 
Thou  hast  called  him  to  a  sweeter  home, 
Than  our  lost  one  o'er  the  ocean's  foam. 

Now  let  thought  behold  him 

With  his  angel  look, 
Where  those  arms  enfold  him, 
Which  benignly  took 
Israel's  babes  to  their  good  Shepherd's  breast 
When  his  voice  their  tender  meekness  blest. 


244  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Turn  thee  now,  fond  mother ! 

From  thy  dead,  oh,  turn  ! 
Linger  not,  young  brother, 
Here  to  dream  and  mourn : 
Only  kneel  once  more  around  the  sod, 
Kneel  and  bow  submissive  hearts  to  God  ! 


TO  A  DEPARTED  CHILD. 

Thou  art  gone  !  my  precious  one  ! 

Gone  to  the  spirit  land ! 
Methinks  I  see  thee  there 

Amid  the  angelic  band  ; 
Removed  from  earth  away, 

Ere  a  tear  had  dimm'd  thine 
To  live  and  sing  and  stray, 

'Mid  the  flowers  of  Paradise, 

But  I  would  not  call  thee  back 

To  sin,  and  grief,  and  pain, 
To  tread  life's  thorny  path. 

With  her  sorrowing  sons  again ; 
For  it  is  a  cheerless  way, 

And  a  thousand  ills  are  near, 
And  every  joy  its  sadness  hath, 

And  every  smile  its  tear. 

Thou  art  gone  !  the  laughing  eye 

Shall  beam  no  more  for  me — 
No  more  thy  mother's  heart  shall  wake 

To  that  voice  of  childish  glee. 
And  he  who  blest  thee  oft. 

His  future  pride  and  joy. 
No  more  shall  twine  thy  sunny  curls, 

And  bless  his  darling  boy. 

Yet  that  eye  of  love,  again 

On  my  longing  sight  shall  beam, 

And  the  little  hand  shall  clasp  my  own, 
In  my  soothing  nightly  dream.  ^^  . 

And  oft  that  thrilling  tone  I^Jf 

Will  haunt  my  soul  at  even, 


SOLACE    BOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  246 

When  I  sit  and  weep  alone, 

Like  a  spirit's  voice  from  heaven. 

Farewell !  my  gentle  boy  ! 

Soft  be  thy  cradle  bed  ! 
And  soft  the  winds  that  sigh 

At  eve,  around  thy  head  ! 
Sweet  be  the  early  flowers 

That  spring  upon  thy  breast, 
And  kind,  and  true,  the  angel-bands, 

That  guard  thy  lonely  rest. 


THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  CHILD. 

An  angel  form  with  brow  of  light, 

Watch'd  o'er  a  sleeping  infant's  dream, 

And  gazed,  as  though  his  image  bright 
He  there  beheld  as  in  a  stream. 

"  Fair  child,  whose  face  is  like  to  mine, 
Oh  come,"  he  said,  "  and  fly  with  me ; 

Come  forth  to  happiness  divine, 
For  earth  is  all  unworthy  thee. 

"  Here  perfect  bliss  thou  canst  not  know ; 

The  soul  amidst  its  pleasures  sighs, 
All  sounds  of  joy  are  full  of  woe. 

Enjoyments  are  but  miseries. 

"  Fear  stalks  amidst  the  gorgeous  shows : 
And  tho'  serene  the  day  may  rise, 

It  lasts  not  brilliant  to  its  close, 

And  tempests  sleep  in  calmest  skies. 

"  Alas  !  shall  sorrow,  doubts  and  fears 
Deform  a  brow  so  pure  as  this ! — 

And  shall  the  bitterness  of  tears 

Dim  those  blue  eyes  that  speak  of  bliss ! 

"  No,  no  !  along  the  realms  of  space, 

Far  from  all  care,  let  us  begone : 

Kind  Providence  shall  give  thee  grace 

For  those  few  years  thou  might'st  live  on. 
01* 


'Mij  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

"  No  mourning'  weeds,  no  sounds  of  wail 
Thy  chainiess  spirit  shall  annoy ; 

Thy  kindred  shall  thy  absence  hail. 
Even  as  thy  coming  gave  them  joy. 

"  No  cloud  on  any  brow  shall  rest, 

Nought  speak  of  tombs  or  sadness  there ; 

Of  beings,  like  thee,  pure  and  blest. 
The  latest  hour  should  be  most  fair." 

The  angel  shook  his  snowy  wings 
And  thro'  the  fields  of  ether  sped. 

Where  heaven's  eternal  music  rings — 
Mother — alas  ! — thy  boy  is  dead  ! 


THE  CHILD'S  FIRST  GRIEF. 

MRS.    HEMANS. 

"  Oh  !  call  my  brother  back  to  me, 

I  cannot  play  alone. 
The  summer  comes  with  flower  and  bee, — 

Where  is  my  brother  gone  ? 

"  The  butterfly  is  glancing  bright 

Across  the  sunbeam's  track  ; 
I  care  not  now  to  chase  its  flight — 

Oh  !  call  my  brother  back  ! 

"  The  flowers  run  wild — the  flowers  we  sowed 

Around  our  garden-tree ; 
Our  vine  is  drooping  with  its  load — 

Oh  !  call  him  back  to  me  !" 

"  He  would  not  hear  thy  voice,  fair  child ! 

He  may  not  come  to  thee ; 
The  face  that  once  like  spring-time  smiled, 

On  earth  no  more  thou'lt  see. 

"  A  rose's  brief,  bright  light  of  joy. 

Such  unto  him  was  given  ; 
Go !  thou  must  play  alone,  my  boy  I 

Thy , brother  is  in  heaven." 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  247 

"  And  has  he  left  his  birds  and  flowers  ? 

And  must  I  call  in  vain  1 
And  through  the  long,  long  summer  hours, 

Will  he  not  come  again  ? 

"  And  by  the  brook,  and  in  the  glade, 

Are  all  our  wanderings  o'er? — 
Oh  !  while  my  brother  with  me  played, 

Would  I  had  loved  him  more  !" 


GONE— BUT  NOT  LOST. 

BY  MRS.  ELLEN  STONE. 

Sweet  bud  of  Earth's  wilderness,  rifled  and  torn ! 
Fond  eyes  have  wept  o'er  thee,  fond  hearts  still  will  mourn; 
The  spoiler  hath  come,  with  his  cold  withering  breath, 
And  the  loved  and  the  cherished  lies  silent  in  death. 

He  felt  not  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day ! 
He  hath  pass'd  from  this  earth,  and  its  sorrows,  away, 
With  the  dew  of  the  morning  yet  fresh  on  his  brow : — 
Sweet  bud  of  Earth's  wilderness,  where  art  thou  now? 

And  oh  !  do  ye  question,  with  tremulous  breath, 
Why  the  joy  of  your  household  lies  silent  in  death? 
Do  ye  mourn  round  the  place  of  his  perishing  dust? 
Look  onward  and  upward,  with  holier  trust ! 

Who  cometh  to  meet  him,  with  light  on  her  brow  ? 
What  angel  form  greets  him  so  tenderly  now  1 
ris  the  pure  sainted  mother,  springs  onward  to  bear 
The  child  of  her  love  from  this  region  of  care ! 

She  beareth  him  on  to  that  realm  of  repose, 
Where  no  cloud  ever  gathers,  no  storm  ever  blows : 
For  the  Saviour  calls  home  to  the  mansions  above, 
This  frail  trembling  floweret  in  mercy  and  love. 

There  shall  he  for  ever,  unchanged  by  decay,  ''J 

Beside  the  still  waters  and  green  pastures  stray  ; 
And  there  shall  ye  join  him,  with  earth's  ransom'd  hdst— 
Look  onward  and  upward  !  "  he's  gone — but  not  lost  /" 


248  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

OH!  SAY  NOT  'TWERE  A  KEENER  BLOW. 

T.  H.  BAYLY. 

Oh  !  say  not  'twere  a  keener  blow- 
To  lose  a  child  of  riper  years, 

You  cannot  feel  a  mother's  woe, 
You  cannot  dry  a  mother's  tears  : 

The  girl  who  rears  a  sickly  plant, 
Or  cherishes  a  wounded  dove, 

Will  love  them  most  while  most  they  want 
The  watchfulness  of  love ! 

Time  must  have  changed  that  fair  young  brow  ! 

Time  might  have  changed  that  spotless  heart! 
Years  might  have  taught  deceit — but  now 

In  love's  confiding  dawn  we  part! 
Ere  pain  or  grief  had  wrought  decay, 

My  babe  is  cradled  in  the  tomb  : 
Like  some  fair  blossom  torn  away 

Before  its  perfect  bloom. 

With  thoughts  of  peril  and  of  storm, 

We  see  a  bark  first  touch  the  wave ; 
But  distant  seems  the  whirlwind's  form, 

As  distant — as  an  infant's  grave  ! 
Though  all  is  calm,  that  beauteous  ship 

Must  brave  the  whirlwind's  rudest  breath  ; 
Though  all  is  calm,  that  infant's  lip 

Must  meet  the  kiss  of  death ! 


LINES  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  ONLY  DAUGHTER. 

BY  MRS.  A.  L.  ANGIER. 

"  I  CANNOT  feel  that  she  is  dead  !"  With  arms  about  me  flung, 
Like  some  bright  jewel  round  my  neck,  but  yesterday  she 

hung. 
I  cannot  feel  that  she  is  dead !    And  oft  wnth  throbbing  ear 
I  list  to  catch  her  shout  of  mirth  I  loved  so  well  to  hear. 

I  cannot  feel  that  she  is  dead !    And  at  her  cradle  side 
I  bend,  to  watch  her  gentle  breath — my  blessing  and  my 
_,  jiride  I 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      249 

I  cannot  feel  that  she  is  dead  !     This  ringlet  is  as  fair 
As  when  upon  her  sunny  brow  it  fell  in  beauty  there. 

I  cannot  feel  that  she  is  dead  !     Her  shadow  passes  by, 
In  every  form  of  grace  that  glides  before  my  wakeful  eye. 
And  when  I  sleep,  a  vision  bright  across  my  fancy  steals : 
The  smile,  the  tone,  the  look  of  love,  my  early  loss  reveals. 

Once  more  her  fairy  foot  I  hear  tread  lightly  on  the  stair, 

And  I  almost  answer  to  the  call^  breathed  from  those  lips  of 
air. 

The  rose  still  blooms,  she  fondly  nursed  in  spring's  soft,  ver- 
nal hours  ; 

Alas !  that  she  should  soonest  fade,  the  fairest  of  the  flowers. 

Yet,  Mother,  though  thy  child  be  dead,  light  through  thy 

darkness  streams, 
As  on  the  ear  a  low  voice  falls,  Hke  music  in  our  dreams. 
To  soothe  thy  sadness,  quell  thy  grief,  and  check  thy  tears 

'tis  given. 
While   thus  it  whispers — "  I  have  found  a  better  home  in 

heaven. 

"  And,  loved  ones,  as  ye  watched  o'er  me,  and  chased  away 

my  fears, 
'Tis  mine  your  spirit-guard  to  be  through  this  dark  vale  of 

tears. 
To  shield  from  sorrow,  save  from  ill,  and  fix  your  hopes 

above — 
'Tis  this  shall  be  my  task  of  joy,  my  ceaseless  work  of  love  ; 

Till  in  the  realm  of  cloudless  light,  the  pure,  blest  spirit- 
land, 

Where  no  sad  thought  of  parting  comes,  you  join  our 
seraph  band." 


FROM  THE  PERSIAN. 

SIR  W.   JONES. 


On  parent  knees,  a  naked,  new-born  child, 
Weeping  thou  sat' st,  while  all  around  thee  smiled: 
So  live,  that,  sinking  in  thy  last  long  sleep, 
Calm  thou  may'st  smile,  when  all  around  thee  weep. 


950:.  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

THE  MOTHER'S  SACRIFICE. 

"  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 
MRS.  L.  H.  SIGOURNEY, 

"  What  shall  I  render  Thee,  Father  Supreme, 
For  thy  rich  gifts,  and  this  the  best  of  all?" 
Said  the  young  mother,  as  she  fondly  watched 
Her  sleeping  babe.     There  was  an  answering  voice 
That  night  in  dreams  : — 

"  Thou  hast  a  tender  flower 
Upon  thy  breast — fed  with  the  dews  of  love  : 
Send  me  that  flower.     Such  flowers  there  are  in  heaven." 
But  there  was  silence.     Yea,  a  hush  so  deep. 
Breathless  and  terror-stricken,  that  the  lip 
Blanched  in  its  trance. 

"  Thou  hast  a  little  harp, — 
How  sweetly  would  it  swell  the  angel's  hymn  ! 
Yield  me  that  harp." 

There  rose  a  shuddering  sob, 
As  if  the  bosom  by  some  hidden  sword 
Was  cleft  in  twain. 

Morn  came — a  blight  had  found 
The  crimson  velvet  of  the  unfolding  bud, 
The  harp-strings  rang  a  thrilling  strain,  and  broke — 
And  that  young  mother  lay  upon  the  earth  * 

In  childless  agony.     Again  the  voice 
That  stirred  her  vision  : 

"  He  who  asked  of  thee, 
Loveth  a  cheerful  giver."     So  she  raised 
Her  gushing  eyes,  and,  ere  the  tear-drop  dried 
Upon  its  fringes,  smiled — and  that  meek  smile, 
Like  Abraham's  faith,  was  counted  righteousness. 


DEATH   OF   AN  INFANT  SON. 

From  the  Scottish  Christian  Herald. 


Farewell,  my  boy,  my  much  lov'd  boy  I 

Tears  oft  shall  flow  for  thee  ;  ,  ^p 

And  while  this  broken  heart  shall  beat  "'', '^.^^ 

Thou'lt  ne'er  forgotten  be. 


J.. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  261 

No  laughing  welcome  greets  me  now, 

As  I  approach  the  door ; 
Thy  footsteps  light  are  heard  no  more 

Upon  the  parlour  floor. 

Thy  merry  voice,  resounding  full 

Of  mirthful  song  and  glee, 
Is  silent  now, — no  more  thou' It  smile 

Upon  thy  father's  knee. 

Thy  little  chair  is  empty  now 

At  our  once  gladsome  hearth ; 
And  all  is  sad  and  gloomy  now, 

Where  all  was  joy  and  mirth. 

But  oh  !  he  only  sleeps ;  look  there, — 

How  beautiful  my  boy  ! 
His  lips  are  red, — he  slumbers,  love, — 

It  is  indeed  my  boy. 

Come  near,— his  golden  ringlets  bind, 

And  softly,  sweetly  sing, 
As  thou  wert  wont  to  do,  my  love ; 

O  strike  the  sweetest  string. 

And  he  will  smile  to  thee,  his  mother, 

When  he  awakes  again, 
And  clasp  thee  in  his  little  arms, 

And  make  thee  glad  again. 

And  yet  he  sleepeth  long,  love, — 

Fear  cometh  on  me  now : 
Ah  !  feel  that  cheek,— 'tis  cold,  'tis  cold,—       I 

And  colder  still  that  brow  ! 

«  Thou  said'st  he  slept,— O  why  deceive  V 

Yes  !  he  but  sleepeth  still. 
But  'tis  the  sleep  of  death,  my  love, — 

It  is  our  Father's  will. 

Oh  !  come  with  me,  then,  to  His  throne, 

And  rev' rently  adore. 
And  kiss  the  Almighty  hand  that 

Afflicteth  us  so  sore. 


I.4iv 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

And,  oh  !  He'll  bless  and  comfort  us, 

He'll  not  forsake  us  now, 
When  waters  deep  encompass  us. 

And  Death  hath  bent  his  bow. 

And  tho'  by  Babel's  streams  we  weep,~ 
And  think  how  glad  we've  been  ; 

Altho'  our  harps  in  silence  hang 
Upon  the  willows  green  ; 

O  still  our  God  will  gracious  be : 

Forsake  us  will  He  never, 
Till  we  in  Zion  dwell  with 

Our  little  one — for  ever. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT  NEPHEW. 

REV.    C.    NEALE. 

Whilst  there  was  hope  I  wept  and  prayed ; 
For  weeping,  praying,  still  I  said, 
Who  knows  if  He  above  may  spare 
The  child  of  bitter  tears  and  prayer  ? 

The  child  is  dead.     How  short  an  hour 
Hath  dimmed  the  radiance  of  that  flower  \ 
In  vain  1  wept,  in  vain  I  prayed  ; 
The  child,  the  dearly  loved,  is  dead. 

In  vain  thy  weeping,  praying? — no; 
It  is  thy  Father ;  say  not  so : 
That  prayer,  that  silent  agony, 
If  not  for  him  was  heard  for  thee. 

Is  there  not  virtue  in  this  hour  ? 
Affliction  hath  a  holy  power : 
'Tis  then  that  faith  best  shows  its  worth, 
As  the  bruised  leaf  breathes  fragrance  forth. 

Once  more  the  child  of  so  much  love, 
Hath  joined  thy  family  above ; 
And  rising,  vanishing  from  view, 
Calls  thy  affection  upward  too. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  253 

UNES  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  A  BELOVED  CHILD. 

From  the  Banner  of  Ulster. 
H.    BROWN. 

Sweet  floweret,  on  the  wastes  of  time 

Thy  blossoms  were  unfolding  fair — 
Now  gathered  to  a  brighter  clime, 

To  bloom  in  lasting  beauty  there. 

Dear  little  one,  thine  hour  was  brief — 

Young  traveller  in  the  vale  of  woe, 
Thy  lips  but  kissed  the  cup  of  grief. 

And  bade  farewell  to  all  below. 

The  Summer  beauty  decks  the  grave 

Where  sleeps  the  all  that  earth  could  claim 

And  love,  fond  love,  alone  could  save. 
And  brood  above  thy  cherish'd  name. 

A  father's  heart  may  lonely  weep, 

When  gazing  on  thy  lowly  tomb ; 
Yet  turns  from  where  thine  ashes  sleep. 

And  heaven's  own  light  dispels  the  gloom. 

But  oh  !  a  mother's  spirit  hung 

O'er  her  last  pledge  of  earthly  love, 
And,  while  attending,  angels  sung, 

Welcom'd  her  dear  one  home  above. 

LOW  SHE  LIES,  WHO  BLEST  OUR  EY^S. 

MRS.    NORTON. 

Low  she  lies,  who  blest  our  eyes 

Through  many  a  sunny  day  ; 
She  maj^  not  smile,  she  will  not  rise, — 

The  life  hath  past  away  ! 
Yet  there  is  a  world  of  light  beyond, 

Where  we  neither  die  nor  sleep ; 
She  is  there  of  whom  our  souls  were  fond, — 

Then  wherefore  do  we  weep  ? 


254      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

The  heart  is  cold,  whose  thous^hts  were  told 

In  each  glance  of  her  glad  bright  eye ; 
And  she  lies  pale,  who  was  so  bright 

She  scarce  seem'd  made  to  die. 
Yet  we  know  that  her  soul  is  happy  now, 

Where  the  saints  their  calm  watch  keep ; 
That  angels  are  crowning  that  fair  young  brow,— 

Then  wherefore  do  we  weep  ? 

Her  laughing  voice  made  all  rejoice, 

Who  caught  the  happy  sound  ; 
There  was  a  gladness  in  her  very  step, 

As  it  lightly  touched  the  ground. 
The  echoes  of  voice  and  step  are  gone, 

There  is  silence  still  and  deep ; 
Yet  we  know  she  sings  by  God's  bright  throne,- 

Then  wherefore  do  we  weep? 

The  cheek's  pale  tinge,  the  lid's  dark  fringe, 

That  lies  like  a  shadow  there, 
Were  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  all, — 

And  her  glossy  golden  hair ! 
But  though  that  lid  may  never  wake 

From  its  dark  and  dreamless  sleep ; 
She  is  gone  where  young  hearts  do  not  break, — 

Then  wherefore  do  we  weep? 

That  world  of  light  with  joy  is  bright, 

This  is  a  world  of  woe : 
Shall  we  grieve  that  her  soul  hath  taken  flight, 

Because  we  dwell  below? 
We  will  bury  her  under  the  mossy  sod. 

And  one  long  bright  tress  we'll  keep ; 
We  have  only  given  her  back  to  God, — 

Ah !  wherefore  do  we  weep  ? 


THE  THREE  LITTLE  GRAVES. 
BY  MRS.  SIGOURNEY. 

1  SOUGHT  at  twilight's  pensive  hour 
The  path  which  mourners  tread, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  255 

Where  many  a  marble  stone  reveals 

The  City  of  the  dead ; — 
The  City  of  the  Dead,  where  all 

From  feverish  toil  repose, 
While  round  their  beds,  the  simple  flower, 

In  sweet  profusion  blows. 

And  there  I  marked  a  pleasant  spot 

Enclosed  with  tender  care. 
Where  side  by  side  three  infants  lay, 

The  only  tenants  there, — 
Nor  weed,  nor  bramble  rais'd  its  head 

To  mar  the  hallowed  scene. 
And  'twas  a  mother's  tears,  methought, 

Which  kept  that  turf  so  green. 

The  eldest  was  a  gentle  girl, 

She  sunk  as  rose-buds  fall, 
And  then  too  little  brothers  came, 

They  were  their  parents'  all, — 
Their  parents'  all! — and  ah,  how  oft 

The  moan  of  sickness  rose, 
Before,  within  these  narrow  mounds, 

They  found  a  long  repose. 

Their  cradle  sports  beside  the  hearth, 

At  winter's  eve,  are  o'er ; 
Their  tuneful  tones,  so  full  of  mirth. 

Delight  the  ear  no  more  : — 
Yet  still  the  thrilling  echo  lives, 

And  many  a  lisping  word 
Is  treasur'd  in  affection's  heart, 

By  grieving  memory  stirr'd. 

Three  little  graves  ! — Three  little  graves  ! 

Come  hither  ye  who  see 
Your  blooming  babes  around  you  smile, 

A  blissful  company, — 
And  of  those  childless  parents  think 

With  sympathizing  pain, 
And  soothe  them  with  a  Saviour's  words,  ^ 

•  -  "  Your  dead  shall  rise  again."  " '  "^ 


256.       SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 


THEY  ARE  NOT  THERE! 

They  are  not  there !  where  once  their  feet 
Light  answer  to  the  music  beat ; 
Where  their  young  voices  sweetly  breathed, 
And  fragrant  flowers  they  lightly  wreathed. 
Still  flows  the  nightingale's  sweet  song  ; 
Still  trail  the  vine's  green  shoots  along ; 
Still  are  the  sunny  blossoms  fair  ; — 
But  they  who  loved  them  are  not  there ! 

They  are  not  there  !  by  the  lone  fount, 
That  once  they  loved  at  eve  to  haunt ; 
Where,  when  the  day-star  brightly  set. 
Beside  the  silver  waves,  they  met. 
Still  lightly  glides  the  quiet  stream  ; 
Still  o'er  it  falls  the  soft  moon-beam  ; — 
But  they  who  used  their  bliss  to  share 
With  loved  hearts  by  it,  are  not  there  ! 

They  are  not  there  !  by  the  dear  hearth, 
That  once  beheld  their  harmless  mirth  ; 
Where,  through  their  joy  came  no  vain  fear, 
And  o'er  their  smiles  no  darkening  tear. 
It  burns  not  now  a  beacon  star  ; 
'Tis  cold  and  fireless,  as  they  are : 
Where  is  the  glow  it  used  to  wear  ? 
'Tis  felt  no  more — they  are  not  there  I 

Where  are  they,  then  ?  oh  !   passed  away, 
Like  blossoms  withered  in  a  day  I 
Or,  as  the  waves  go  swiftly  by, 
Or,  as  the  lightnings  cleave  the  sky. 
But  still  there  is  a  land  of  rest : 
Still  hath  it  room  for  many  a  guest ; 
Still  is  it  free  from  strife  and  care ; — 
And  'tis  our  hope  that  they  are  there  ! 


AN  INDIAN  MOTHER'S  LOVE. 

Os-HE-oAu-MAi,  the  wife  of  Little  Wolf,  one  of  the 
Iowa  Indians,  died  while  in  Paris,  of  an  affection  of 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  257 

the  lungs,  brought  on  by  grief  for  the  death  of  her 
young  child  in  London.  Her  husband  was  unremit- 
ting in  his  endeavours  to  console,  and  restore  her  to  the 
love  of  life,  but  she  constantly  replied — "  No  !  no  !  my 
four  children  recall  me.  I  see  them  by  the  side  of  the 
Great  Spirit.  They  stretch  out  their  arms  to  me,  and 
are  astonished  that  I  do  not  join  them." 

No  !  no  !  I  must  depart 
From  earth's  pleasant  scenes,  for  they  but  wake 
Those  thrilling  memories  of  the  lost  which  shake 

The  life  sands  from  my  heart. 

Why  do  ye  bid  me  stay  ? 
Should  the  rose  linger  when  the  young  buds  die. 
Or  the  tree  flourish  when  the  branches  lie, 

Stricken  by  sad  decay  ? 

Doth  not  the  parent  dove, 
When  her  young  nurslings  leave  their  lowly  home 
And  soar  on  joyous  wings  to  heaven's  blue  dome, 

Fly  the  deserted  grove  ? 

Why  then  should  I  remain  ? 
Have  I  not  seen  my  sweet-voiced  warblers  soar, 
So  far  away  that  Love's  fond  wiles  no  more 

May  lure  them  back  again  ? 

They  cannot  come  to  me  ; 
But  I  may  go  to  them — and  as  the  flower 
Awaits  the  dewy  eve,  I  wait  the  hour 

That  sets  my  spirit  free. 

Hark !  heard  ye  not  a  sound 
Sweeter  than  wild-bird's  note  or  minstrel's  lay  ? 
I  know  that  music  well,  for  night  and  day 

I  hear  it  echoing  round. 

It  is  the  tuneful  chime 
Of  spirit  voices  ! — 'tis  my  infant  band 
Calling  the  mourner  from  this  darkened  land 

To  joy's  unclouded  clime. 

QO*     ^ 


258  SOLACE  FOR  bere:aved  parents. 

My  beautiful,  my  blest ! 
I  see  them  there,  by  the  Great  Spirit's  throne  ; 
With  winning  words  and  fond  beseeching  tone 

They  woo  me  to  my  rest. 

They  chide  my  long  delay, 
And  wonder  that  I  linger  from  their  home  ; 
They  stretch  their  loving  arms  to  bid  me  come — 

Now  would  ye  have  me  stay?  E.  S. 


AN  INFANT'S  SPIRIT. 

An  infant's  soul — the  sweetest  ibing  on  earth, 
To  which  endowments  beautiful  are  given. 
As  might  befit  a  more  than  mortal  birth — 
What  shall  it  be,  when,  'midst  its  winning  mirth, 
And  love,  and  trustfulness,  'tis  borne  to  heaven. 
Will  it  grow  into  might  above  the  skies? 
A  spirit  of  high  wisdom,  glory,  power — 
A  cherub  guard  of  the  Eternal  Tower, 
With  knowledge  filled  of  its  vast  mysteries? 
Or  will  perpetual  childhood  be  its  dower? 
To  sport  forever,  a  bright,  joyous  thing. 
Amid  the  wonders  of  the  shining  thrones, 
Yielding  its  praise  in  glad,  but  feeble  tones, 
A  tender  love  beneath  the  Almighty's  wing. 


ON  SEEING  AN  INFANT  PREPARED  FOR  THE  GRAVE. 

MRS.  SIGOURNEY. 

Go  to  thy  sleep,  my  child, 

Go  to  thy  dreamless  bed, — 
Gentle  and  undefiled, 

With  blessings  on  thy  head  : — 
Fresh  roses  in  thy  hand, 

Buds  on  thy  pillow  laid, 
Haste  from  this  fearful  land 

Where  flowers  so  quickly  fade. 

Before  thy  heart  had  learn'd 
In  waywardness  to  stray, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Before  thy  feet  had  turn'd 

The  dark  and  downward  way ; 

Ere  Sin  had  sear'd  thy  breast, 
Or  Sorrow  woke  the  tear, 

Rise  to  thy  home  of  jrest 
In  yon  celestial  sphere. 

Because  thy  smile  was  fair, 

Thy  lip  and  eye  so  bright ; 
Because  thy  cradle-care 

Was  such  a  fond  delight, 
Shall  Love  with  weak  embrace 

Thy  outspread  wing  detain  ? 
No  ! — Angels, — seek  thy  place 

Amid  the  cherub  train. 


259 


THE  EARLY  DEAD. 

"  I  saw  a  drop  whose  trembling  ray 
Was  bosomed  by  a  flower — 

A  sunbeam  bore  the  gem  away, 

But  Fancy  in  its  airy  sway, 

Pursued  it  to  a  brighter  day — 

Gilding  a  fairer  bower."— /f.  K.  White. 

I  mark'd,  where  late  a  blossom  grew, 
In  all  the  pride  of  young  delight, 

Its  petals  bore  the  morning  dew. 

And  quafF'd  the  nectar-springs  of  night. 

The  culturing  touch  of  love  had  given 
This  moral  flower  a  softened  grace ; 

And  o'er  it  shone  the  light  of  heaven — 
The  glow  of  hope — the  seal  of  truth — 

Though  desolation's  hand  had  striven 
To  mar  it,  in  its  tender  youth  ! 

Since  withering  grass  and  fading  flower 

Are  fitting  types  of  man's  brief  hour ! 

The  tempest  pours  its  chilling  blast — 
The  wild  winds  echo  as  they  pass — 
And  when  their  wrath  is  borne  away, 
Uptorn  from  earth  their  victims  lay  1 1 


^^v  ®^^^^^    ^^^    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Again,  I  mark'd  the  parent  stem — 
Shorn  was  it  of  its  treasured  boast — 

The  perish'd  bud  ne'er  bloom'd  again 

And  yet  its  fragrance  was  not  lost — 

Translated  to  a  higher  sphere, 

It  found  perennial  beauty  there  ! 

I  saw  a  gem  of  promise  fair — 
Enshrin'd  within  its  casket  rare. 

A  hand  of  might  unclasp'd  this  token 

And  lo  !  the  gem  was  crushed  and  broken  ! 
But  still  its  glittering  fragments  lay 
Reflecting  back  a  purer  ray — 
Gem  of  the  soul !  it  soars  above, 
To  bask  in  the  Redeemer's  love ! ! 


THE  EARLY  CALLED. 

The  light  of  the  setting  sun 

Fell  on  the  heaving  sea, 
And  the  shriek  of  the  sea-bird  hastening  home 

Came  faintly  and  mournfully; 
And  sadly  the  fitful  wind  did  wail 

As  the  twilight  waned  away. 
And  before  the  light  was  lost  in  night, 

A  mortal  had  changed  to  clay. 

The  flush  of  a  summer  cloud 

Hung  over  the  gorgeous  west, 
As  a  mantle  of  glorious  hue,  to  shroud 

The  close  of  the  day  of  rest. 
Or  ever  the  stream  of  the  sunset  gleam 

Was  lost  in  the  gloom  of  even. 
Another  harp  to  the  Saviour's  praise 

Was  heard  in  the  courts  of  heaven. 

Cold  grows  her  glorious  brow 

With  the  chilling  dew  of  death  ; 
The  sunny  eye  fades  mournfully, 

The  heavy  lid  beneath. 
Hushed  the  melodious  lip ; 

Fainter  the  pulse — now  gone  ! 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

And  another  mourner  lives  to  tread 
Life's  pilgrimage  alone. 

With  a  solemn  step  and  slow, 

Come  to  the  place  of  prayer ! 
The  words  of  life,  the  song  of  death, 

She  never  more  may  hear. 
Room  in  the  sepulchre  ! 

Room  underneath  the  sod  ! 
The  mould  is  pressed  on  the  bounding  breast, 

The  sainted  one's  with  God  ! 

The  sun  shall  rise  and  set. 

The  stars  shall  flicker  and  fade, 
And  one  by  one,  beneath  the  stone. 

We  shall  to  rest  be  laid. 
What  matters  it  whether  we  sink  to  sleep 

LuU'd  by  the  murmuring  billow. 
Or  whether  we  die  on  land,  and  lie 

With  the  clod  for  our  only  mllow  ? 

From  the  earth  and  the  mighty  aea. 

The  dead  shall  thronging  come, 
When  that  wrathful  day  shall  melt  away 

The  fetters  of  the  tomb. 
Then  to  the  loved  and  lost 

Shall  a  crown  of  light  be  given. 
And  the  cherished  here  shall  triumph  there: 

Meet  ye  the  dead  in  heaven  ! 


^61 


MOTHER,  WHAT  IS  DEATHS 
CAROLINE   GILMAN. 

"  Mother,  how  still  the  baby  lies  ! 

I  cannot  hear  his  breath ; 
1  cannot  see  his  laughing  eyes — 

They  tell  me  this  is  death. 

My  little  work  I  thought  to  bring, 
And  sat  down  by  his  bed. 

And  pleasantly  I  tried  to  sing — 
They  hushed  me — he  is  dead. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

They  say  that  he  again  will  rise, 

More  beautiful  than  now ; 
That  God  will  bless  him  in  the  skies — 

O,  mother,  tell  me  how  !" 

"  Daughter,  do  you  remember,  dear, 
The  cold,  dark  thing  you  brought, 

And  laid  upon  the  casement  here, — 
A  withered  worm,  you  thought? 

I  told  you  that  Almighty  power 
Could  break  that  withered  shell, 

And  show  you,  in  a  future  hour. 
Something  would  please  you  well. 

Look  at  the  chrysalis,  my  love, — 

An  empty  shell  it  lies ; 
Now  raise  your  wondering  glance  above, 

To  where  yon  insect  flies !" 

"  O,  yes,  mamma  !  how  very  gay 

Its  wings  of  starry  gold  ! 
And  see  !  it  lightly  flies  away 

Beyond  my  gentle  hold. 

O,  mother,  now  I  know  full  well, 
If  God  that  worm  can  change, 

And  draw  it  from  this  broken  cell. 
On  golden  wings  to  range, — 

How  beautiful  will  brother  be, 
When  God  shall  give  him  wings. 

Above  this  dying  world  to  flee, 
And  live  with  heavenly  things  !" 


A  BUTTERFLY  AT  A  CHILD'S  GRAVE. 

LYDIA  H.  SIGOURNEY. 

A  BUTTERFLY  basked  on  an  infant's  grave. 

Where  a  lily  had  chanced  to  grow ; 
Why  art  thou  here  with  thy  gaudy  dye, 
Where  she  of  the  bright  and  the  sparkling  eye 
Must  sleep  in  the  churchyard  low  ? 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  263 

Then  it  lightly  soared  through  the  sunny  air, 

And  spoke  from  its  shining  track : 
I  was  a  worm  till  I  won  my  wings, 
And  she  whom  thou  mourn'st,  like  a  seraph  sings — 

Wouldst  thou  call  the  blest  one  back  ? 


THOUGHTS  WHILE  MAKING  A  GRAVE  FOR  A  FIRST 
CHILD,  BORN  DEAD. 

N.  P.  WILLIS. 

Room,  gentle  flowers !  my  child  would  pass  to  heaven  I 

Ye  looked  not  for  her  yet  with  your  soft  eyes, 
O,  watchful  ushers  at  Death's  narrow  door ! 
But  lo !  while  you  delay  to  let  her  forth, 
Angels,  beyond,  stay  for  her !     One  long  kiss 
From  lips  all  pale  with  agony,  and  tears, 
Wrung  after  anguish  had  dried  up  with  fire 
The  eyes  that  wept  them,  were  the  cup  of  life 
Held  as  a  welcome  to  her.     Weep,  O  mother ! 
But  not  that  from  this  cup  of  bitterness 
A  cherub  of  the  sky  has  turned  away. 

One  look  upon  her  face  ere  she  depart ! 
My  daughter  !  it  is  soon  to  let  thee  go ! 
My  daughter !  with  thy  birth  has  gushed  a  spring 
1  knew  not  of;  filling  my  heart  with  tears, 
And  turning  Avith  strange  tenderness  to  thee  ! 
A  love — O,  God,  it  seems  so — which  must  flow 
Far  as  thou  fleest,  and  'twixt  Heaven  and  me, 
Henceforward,  be  a  sweet  and  yearning  chain, 
Drawing  me  after  thee  !     And  so  farewell ! 
'Tis  a  harsh  world  in  which  affection  knows 
No  place  to  treasure  up  its  loved  and  lost 
But  the  lone  grave  !     Thou,  who  so  late  was  sleeping 
Warm  in  the  close  folds  of  a  mother's  heart. 
Scarce  from  her  breast  a  single  pulse  receiving, 
But  it  was  sent  thee  with  some  tender  thought — 
How  can  I  leave  thee  here  !     Alas,  for  man  ! 
The  herb  in  its  humility  may  fall, 
And  waste  into  the  bright  and  genial  air, 
While  we,  by  hands  that  ministered  in  life 
Nothing  but  love  to  us,  are  thrust  away, 


264  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

The  earth  thrown  in  upon  our  just  cold  bosoms, 
And  the  warm  sunshine  trodden  out  forever ! 
Yet  have  I  chosen  for  thy  grave,  my  child, 
A  bank  where  I  have  lain  in  summer  hours, 
And  thought  how  little  it  would  seem  like  death 
To  sleep  amid  such  loveliness.     The  brook 
Tripping  with  laughter  down  the  rocky  steps 
That  lead  us  to  thy  bed,  would  still  trip  on, 
Breaking  the  dread  hush  of  the  mourners  gone  ; 
The  birds  are  never  silent  that  build  here, 
Trying  to  sing  down  the  more  vocal  waters  ; 
The  slope  is  beautiful  with  moss  and  flowers ; 
And,  far  below,  seen  under  arching  leaves, 
Glitters  the  warm  sun  on  the  village  spire, 
Pointing  the  living  after  thee.     And  this 
Seems  like  a  comfort,  and,  replacing  now 
The  flowers  that  have  made  room  for  thee,  I  go 
To  whisper  the  same  peace  to  her  who  lies 
Robbed  of  her  child,  and  lonely.     'Tis  the  work 
Of  many  a  dark  hour,  and  of  many  a  prayer, 
To  bring  the  heart  back  from  an  infant  gone ! 
Hope  must  give  o'er,  an'd  busy  fancy  blot 
Its  images  from  all  the  silent  rooms, 
And  every  sight  and  sound  familiar  to  her 
Undo  its  sweetest  link  ;  and  so,  at  last, 
The  fountain  that,  once  loosed,  must  flow  forever, 
Will  hide  and  waste  in  silence.     When  the  smile 
Steals  to  her  pallid  lip  again,  and  spring 
Wakens  its  buds  above  thee,  we  will  come. 
And,  standing  by  thy  music-haunted  grave. 
Look  on  each  other  cheerfully,  and  say, 
A  child  that  we  have  loved  is  gone  to  heaven^ 
And  by  this  gate  offiowers  she  passed  away ! 


TO  A  DYING  CHILD. 

Sweet  child,  that  wasted  form, 
That  pale  and  mournful  brow, 

O'er  which  thy  long,  dark  tresses 
In  shadowy  beauty  flow — 

That  eye,  whence  soul  is  darting 
With  such  strange  brilliancy, 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  265 

Tell  us  thou  art  departing — 
This  world  is  not  for  thee. 

No !  not  for  thee  is  woven 

That  wreath  of  joy  and  woe, 
That  crown  of  thorns  and  flowers, 

Which  all  must  wear  below ! 
We  bend  in  anguish  o'er  thee, 

Yet  feel  that  thou  art  blessed. 
Loved  one,  so  early  summoned 

To  enter  into  rest. 

Soon  shall  thy  bright  young  spirit 

From  earth's  cold  chains  be  free ; 
Soon  shalt  thou  meet  that  Saviour, 

Who  gave  himself  for  thee. 
Soon  shalt  thou  be  rejoicing, 

Unsullied  as  thou  art. 
In  the  blessed  vision  promised 

Unto  the  pure  in  heart. 

Yes,  thou  art  going  home, 

Our  Father's  face  to  see, 
In  perfect  bliss  and  glory ; 

But  we,  O,  where  are  we  ? 
While  that  celestial  country 

Thick  clouds  and  darkness  hide, 
In  a  strang-e  land  of  exile, 

Still,  still  must  we  abide. 

O  Father  of  our  spirits. 

We  can  but  look  to  thee  ; 
Though  chastened,  not  forsaken, 

Shall  we  thy  children  be. 
We  take  the  cup  of  sorrow. 

As  did  thy  blessed  Son — 
Teach  us  to  say  with  Jesus, 

"  Thy  will,  not  ours,  be  done !" 
23 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

A  PSALM  OF  DEATH. 

THE    REAPER   AND    THE   FLOWERS. 

Henry  W.  Longfellow. 

««  Dear,  beauteouB  Death  !  the  jewel  of  the  just 

Shining  no  where  but  in  the  dark, 
What  mysteries  do  lie  beyond  thy  dust. 

Could  we  outlook  that  mark !" 

There  is  a  Reaper  whose  name  is  Death, 

And  with  his  sickle  keen, 
He  reaps  the  bearded  grain  at  a  breath. 

And  the  flowers  that  grow  between. 

"  Shall  I  have  nought  that  is  fair,"  saith  he  : 
"  Have  nought  but  the  bearded  grain  ? 

Though  the  breath  of  these  flowers  is  sweet  to  me, 
I  will  give  them  all  back  again." 

He  gazed  at  the  flowers  with  tearful  eyes, 

He  kissed  their  drooping  leaves ; 
It  was  for  the  Lord  of  Paradise 

He  bound  them  in  his  sheaves. 

"  My  Lord  hath  need  of  the  flowerets  gay,'^ 

The  Reaper  said,  and  smiled : 
"  Dear  tokens  of  the  earth  are  they, 

Where  he  was  once  a  child." 

^'  They  shall  all  bloom  in  fields  of  light, 

Transplanted  by  my  care, 
And  saints  upon  their  garments  white 

These  sacred  blossoms  wear." 

And  the  motl>er  gave,  in  tears  and  pain, 

The  flowers  she  most  did  love ; 
But  she  knew  she  would  find  them  all  again, 

In  the  fields  of  light  above. 

O,  not  in  cruelty,  not  in  wrath, 

The  Reaper  came  that  day  : 
'Twas  an  angel  visited  the  green  earth, 

And  took  the  flowers  away. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  267 


TO  A  DYING  INFANT. 

Sleep,  little  baby  !  sleep  ! 
Not  in  thy  cradle  bed, 
Not  on  thy  mother's  breast 
Henceforth  shall  be  thy  rest, 

But  with  the  quiet  dead. 

Yes — with  the  quiet  dead, 
Baby,  thy  rest  shall  be. 
Oh  !  many  a  weary  heart, 
Weary  of  life's  dull  part, 

Would  fain  lie  down  with  thee. 

Flee,  little  tender  nursling  ! 
Flee  to  thy  grassy  nest ; 
There  the  first  flowers  shall  blow, 
The  first  pure  flakes  of  snow 

Shall  fall  upon  thy  breast. 


ON  A  FAIR  INFANT. 

MILTON. 

O  FAIREST  flower,  no  sooner  shown  than  blasted, 
Soft,  silken  primrose,  fading  timelessly, 

Summer's  chief  honour,  if  thou  hadst  outlasted 
Bleak  Winter's  force  that  made  thy  blossom  dry ; 
For  he,  being  amorous  on  that  lovely  dye 

That  did  thy  cheek  envermeil,  thought  to  kiss. 

But  killed,  alas  !  and  then  bewailed  his  fatal  bliss. 

Yet  can  I  not  persuade  me  thou  art  dead. 

Or  that  thy  corse  corrupts  in  earth's  dark  womb, 

Or  that  thy  beauties  lie  in  wormy  bed. 
Hid  from  the  world  in  a  low  delved  tomb 
Could  Heaven,  for  pity,  thee  so  strictly  doom  7— 

Oh,  no !  for  something  in  th}'-  face  did  shine 

Above  mortality,  that  showed  thou  wast  divine. 

Ah  !  wert  thou  of  the  golden-winged  host. 
Who,  having  clad  thyself  in  human  weed. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

To  earth  from  thy  prefixed  seat  didst  post, 
And  after  short  abode  fly  back  with  speed, 
As  if  to  show  what  creatures  heaven  doth  breed  j 
Thereby  to  set  the  hearts  of  men  on  fire, 
To  scorn  the  sordid  world,  and  unto  heaven  aspire. 

But,  oh  !  why  didst  thou  not  stay  here  below  ? 
To  bless  us  with  thy  heaven-loved  innocence, 

To  slake  his  wrath  whom  sin  hath  made  our  foe, 
To  turn  swift-rushing  black  Perdition  hence. 
Or  drive  away  the  slaughtering  Pestilence, 

To  stand  'twixt  us  and  our  deserved  smart  ? 

But  thou  canst  best  perform  that  office  where  thou  art 

Then  thou,  the  mother  of  so  sweet  a  child, 
Her  false-imagined  loss  cease  to  lament. 

And  wisely  think  to  curb  thy  sorrows  wild ; 
Think  what  a  present  thou  to  God  has  sent, 
And  render  him  with  patience  what  he  lent ; 

This,  if  thou  do,  he  will  an  offspring  give, 

That,  till  the  world's  last  end,  shall  make  thy  name  to  live. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MY  CHILD. 

BY    MRS.    S.    H.    O. 

"  These  were  redeemed  from  among  men,  being  the  first  fruits  unto 
God,  and  to  the  Lamb." — Rev.  xiv.  4. 

Redeem'd  from  earth,  my  gentle  child. 

Now  thou  art  of  that  seraph  band, 
The  pure  in  heart,  the  undefiled. 

Who  roam  the  bright  immortal  land. 
By  crystal  streams,  through  flowery  meads. 
Still  following  where  the  Saviour  leads. 

There  doth  the  tender  bud  expand. 

We  watch' d  with  many  a  sigh  and  tear, 

Too  fragile  for  this  wintry  land, 

Too  pure  for  earth's  polluted  sphere. 

Twelve  moons  mark'd  thy  gentle  bloom, 

The  thirteenth  beam'd  upon  thy  tomb. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      260 

Sweet  one  !  when  fondly  on  my  breast 

I  hush'd  thee  to  thy  soft  repose, 
And  watched  the  wing  of  slumber  rest 

On  violet  eye — and  cheek  of  rose — 
While  g-azing  on  thy  trusting  eye,  » 

How  could  I  deem  that  thou  would'st  die ! 

That  thou  would'st  die  !  and  from  our  bower 

Withdraw  the  sunshine  thou  hadst  shed. 
While  grief  should  bid  her  purple  flower. 

Spring  up  where'er  our  footsteps  tread  ; 
And  hopes,  and  dreams,  once  green  and  high 
Like  autumn  leaves  should  lowly  lie.  ' 

When  on  thy  pale  cold  brow  of  snow 

I  press'd  the  last  fond  kiss  of  love, 
Such  love  as  only  mothers  know —  ' 

A  stream,  whose  fountain  is  above, 
I  felt  that  life  was  drear,  and  wild, 
Bereft  of  thee,  my  gentle  child  ! 

When  kneeling  by  the  sacred  tomb. 

That  held  the  form  so  prized,  so  dear, 
A  voice  dispell'd  my  bosom's  gloom 

And  vvhisper'd  soft,  she  is  not  here ; 
Not  here,  not  here,  beyond  the  skies, 
Her  spirit  lives  in  Paradise. 

What  rapture  thriil'd  through  every  vein. 

As  faith,  with  eagle-piercing  eye, 
Beheld  her  in  that  seraph  train, 

The  infant  army  of  the  sky — 
By  crystal  streams,  by  flowery  meads, 
Still  following  where  the  Saviour  leads. 

And  now,  though  years  have  onward  sped, 

Through  tears  and  smiles,  through  light  and  gloom. 

Still  memory  o'er  the  lovely  dead. 

Bids  flowers  of  fairest  verdure  bloom — 

And  wakes  her  harp  all  sweet,  and  low, 

Whence  soft,  delicious  numbers  flow. 
9q# 


21^^,     SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS, 

Soft  breathing  tones,  but  not  of  wo, 
Though  lonely  is  the  mother's  heart ; 

And  time's  swift  flight  is  all  too  slow, 
For  lov'd  and  cherish'd  friends  apart : 

Those  gentle  airs  with  hope  are  rife, 

And  whisper  of  eternal  life. 


FAITH  AND  SUBMISSION. 

Oh,  Lord  !   the  message  from  thy  throne  has  come : 
We  hear  thy  voice,  and  give  them  back  to  thee. 

With  tears  we  lay  our  children  in  the  tomb ; 
In  faith,  their  spirits  at  thy  feet  we  see. 

There,  at  the  Almighty  Father's  hand, 

Nearest  the  throne  of  living  light, 
The  choirs  of  infant  seraphs  stand. 

And  dazzling  shine  where  all  are  bright. 


THE  MOURNING  MOTHER. 

O  !  WHO  shall  tell  what  fearful  pangs 

That  mother's  heart  are  rending. 
As  o'er  her  infant's  little  grave 

Her  wasted  form  is  bending ; 
From  many  an  eye  that  weeps  to-day 

Delight  may  beam  to-morrow  ; 
But  she — her  precious  babe  is  not ! 

And  what  remains  but  sorrow  ? 

Bereaved  one  !  I  may  not  chide 

Thy  tears  and  bitter  sobbing, — 
Weep  on  !  'twill  cool  that  burning  brow, 

And  still  that  bosom's  throbbing: 
Be  not  thine  such  grief  as  theirs 

To  whom  no  hope  is  given, — 
Snatched  from  the  world,  its  sins  and  snares, 

Thy  infant  rests  in  heaven. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      271 
ON  THE  DEATH  OP  A  YOUNG  GIRL. 

WILLIAM  H.   BURLEIGH. 

She  haih  gone  in  the  spring-time  of  life, 

Ere  her  sky  had  been  dimmed  by  a  cloud, 
While  her  heart  with  the  rapture  of  love  was  yet  rife, 

And  the  hopes  of  her  youth  were  unbowed — 
From  the  lovely,  who  loved  her  too  well ; 

From  the  heart  that  had  grown  to  her  own ; 
From  the  sorrow  which  late  o'er  her  young  spirit  fell 

Like  a  dream  of  the  night  she  hath  flown ; 
And  the  earth  hath  received  to  its  bosom  its  trust — 
Ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  unto  dust. 

The  spring,  in  its  loveliness  dressed, 

Will  return  with  its  music-winged  hours. 
And,  kissed  by  the  breath  of  the  sweet  southwest, 

The  buds  shall  burst  out  in  flowers ; 
And  the  flowers  her  grave-sod  above, 

Though  the  sleeper  beneath  recks  it  not, 
Shall  thickly  be  strown  by  the  hand  of  Love, 

To  cover  with  beauty  the  spot — 
Meet  emblems  are  they  of  the  pure  one  and  bright, 
Who  faded  and  fell  with  so  early  a  blight. 

Ay,  the  spring  will  retuin — but  the  blossom 

That  bloomed  in  our  presence  the  sweetest, 
By  the  spoiler  is  borne  from  the  cherishing  bosom, 

The  loveliest  of  all  and  the  fleetest ! 
The  music  of  stream  and  of  bird 

Shall  come  back  when  the  winter  is  o'er ; 
But  the  voice  that  was  dearest  to  us  shall  be  heard 

In  our  desolate  chambers  no  more ! 
The  sunlight  of  May  on  the  waters  shall  quiver — 
The  light  of  her  eye  hath  departed  forever! 

As  the  bird  to  its  sheltering  nest. 

When  the  storm  on  the  hills  is  abroad. 
So  her  siprit  hath  flown  from  this  world  of  unrest 

To  repose  on  the  bosom  of  God  ! 
Where  the  sorrows  of  earth  never  more 

May  fling  o'er  its  brightness  a  stain  ;    -    . 


272  solacp:  for  bereaved  parents. 

Where  in  rapture  and  love  it  shall  ever  adore, 

With  a  g-ladness  unmingled  with  pain ; 
And  its  thirst  shall  be  slacked  by  the  waters  which  spring, 
Like  a  river  of  light,  from  the  throne  of  the  King  1 

There  is  weeping  on  earth  for  the  lost ! 

There  is  bowing  in  grief  to  the  ground ! 
But  rejoicing  and  praise  mid  the  sanctified  host. 

For  a  spirit  in  paradise  found  ! 
Though  brightness  hath  passed  from  the  earth, 

Yet  a  star  is  newborn  in  the  sky, 
And  a  soul  hath  gone  home  to  the  land  of  its  birth, 

Where  are  pleasures  and  fulness  of  joy  t 
And  a  new  harp  is  strung,  and  a  new  song  is  given 
To  the  breezes  that  float  o'er  the  gardens  of  heaven. 


TO  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Tender  guides,  m  sorrow  weeping 

O'er  your  first-born's  smitten  bloom  ; 
Or  fond  memory's  vigil  keeping 

Where  the  fresh  turf  marks  her  tomb. 

Ye  no  more  shall  see  her  bearing 
Pangs  that  woke  the  dove-like  moan, 

Still  for  your  affliction  caring, 
Though  forgetful  of  her  own. 

Ere  the  bitter  cup  she  tasted. 

Which  the  hand  of  care  doth  bring — 
Ere  the  glittering  pearls  were  wasted. 

From  glad  childhood's  fairy  string — 

Ere  one  chain  of  hope  had  rusted, — 
Ere  one  wreath  of  joy  was  dead — 

To  the  Saviour,  whom  she  trusted, 
Strong  in  faith,  her  spirit  fled. 

Gone — where  no  dark  sin  is  cherished, 

Where  no  woes,  nor  fears  invade, 
Gone — ere  youth's  first  flower  had  perished, 
To  a  youth  that  ne'er  can  fade. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  273 

DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

As  the  sweet  flower  that  scents  the  morn, 

But  withers  in  the  rising  day ; 
Thus  lovely  was  this  infant's  dawn, 

Thus  swiftly  fled  its  life  away. 

It  died  ere  its  expanding  soul 

Had  ever  burnt  with  wrong  desires, 
Had  ever  spurned  at  heaven's  control, 

Or  ever  quench'd  its  sacred  fires. 

It  died  to  sin,  it  died  to  cares. 

But  for  a  moment  felt  the  rod : — 
O  mourner  !  such  the  Lord  declares, 

Such  are  the  children  of  our  God ! 


ELEGY  ON  A  BELOVED  INFANT. 

Fare  thee  well,  thou  lovely  stranger, 
Guardian  angels  take  your  charge  ; 

Freed  at  once  from  pain  and  danger, 
Happy  spirit  set  at  large. 

Life's  most  bitter  cup  just  tasting, 
Short  thy  passage  to  the  tomb, 

O'er  the  barrier  swiftly  hasting 
To  thine  everlasting  home. 

Death  his  victim  still  pursuing, 
Ever  to  his  purpose  true — 
•*»   Soon  her  placid  cheek  bedewing, 
Robb'd  it  of  its  rosy  hue. 

Sealed  those  eyes,  so  lately  beaming 
Innocence  and  joy,  so  mild, 

Every  look  so  full  of  meaning 
Seemed  to  endear  the  lovely  child. 

In  the  silent  tomb  we  leave  her. 
Till  the  resurrection  morn  ; 

When  her  Saviour  will  receive  her, 
And  restore  her  lovely  form. 


2T4      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Then,  dear  Lord,  we  hope  to  meet  her, 

In  thy  happy  courts  above ; 
There  with  heavenly  joy  to  greet  her, 

And  resound  redeeming  Love ! 


"NOT  LOST,  BUT  GONE  BEFORE." 

Friend  after  friend  departs ; 

Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend  ? 
There  is  no  union  here  of  hearts, 

That  finds  not  here  an  end : 
Were  this  frail  world  our  final  rest, 
Living  or  dying  none  were  blest. 

Beyond  the  flight  of  time, 

Beyond  the  reign  of  death, 
There  surely  is  some  blessed  clime, 

Where  life  is  not  a  breath  ; 
Nor  life's  affections  transient  fire. 
Whose  sparks  fly  upwards  and  expire. 

There  is  a  world  above, 

Where  parting  is  unknown  ; 
A  long  eternity  of  love, 

Formed  for  the  good  alone ; 
And  faith  beholds  the  dying  here. 
Translated  to  that  glorious  sphere. 

Thus  star  by  star  declines, 

'Till  all  are  passed  away, 
As  morning  higher  and  higher  shines. 

To  pure  and  perfect  day ; 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night. 
But  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light 


THE  DYING  INFANT  TO  ITS  MOTHER. 

"  Cease  here  longer  to  detain  me. 
Fondest  mother,  drown'd  in  woe  ; 

Now  thy  kind  caresses  pain  me, 
Morn  advances — let  me  go. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  275 

See  yon  orient  streak  appearing, 

Harbinger  of  endless  day ; 
Hark  !  a  voice ;  the  darkness  cheering, 

Calls  my  new-born  soul  away. 

Lately  launched  a  trembling  stranger, 

On  the  world's  wild  boist'rous  flood ; 
Pierc'd  with  sorrows,  tossed  with  danger, 

Gladly  I  return  to  God. 

Now  my  cries  shall  cease  to  grieve  thee ; 

Now  my  trembling  heart  find  rest ; 
Kinder  arms  than  thine  receive  me ; 

Softer  pillow  than  thy  breast. 

Weep  not  o'er  these  eyes  that  languish, 

Upward  turning  toward  their  home : 
Raptur'd  they'll  forget  all  anguish, 

While  they  wait  to  see  thee  come. 

There,  my  mother,  pleasures  centre. 

Weeping,  parting,  care  or  wo 
Ne'er  our  Father's  house  shall  enter. 

Morn  advances — let  me  go. 

As  through  this  calm,  peaceful  dawning. 

Silent  glides  my  parting  breath, 
To  an  everlasting  morning. 

Gently  close  my  eyes  in  death. 

Blessings  endless,  richest  blessings, 

Pour  their  streams  upon  thy  heart ! 
Though  no  language  yet  possessing. 

Breathes  my  spirit  ere  we  part. 

Yet,  to  leave  thee  sorrowing  rends  me, 

Though  again  his  voice  I  hear ; 
Rise  !  may  every  grace  attend  thee  ; 

Rise  !  and  seek  to  meet  me  there." 


276  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


A  MOTHER'S  GRIEF. 

To  mark  the  sufferings  of  the  babe, 

That  cannot  speak  its  woe  ; 
To  see  the  infant  tears  gush  forth, 

Yet  know  not  why  they  flow ; 
To  meet  the  meek  uplifted  eye, 

That  fain  would  ask  relief, 
Yet  can  but  tell  of  agony, — 

This  is  a  mother's  grief 

Through  dreary  days  and  darker  nights, 

To  trace  the  march  of  death ; 
To  hear  the  faint  and  frequent  sigh, 

The  quick  and  shorten' d  breath  : 
To  watch  the  last  dread  strife  draw  near, 

And  pray  that  struggle  brief; 
Though  all  is  ended  with  its  close — 

This  is  a  mother's  grief! 

To  see,  in  one  short  hour,  decay 

The  hope  of  future  years. 
To  feel  how  vain  a  father's  prayer. 

How  vain  a  mother's  tears ; 
To  think  the  cold  grave  now  must  close 

O'er  what  was  once  the  chief 
Of  all  the  treasured  joys  of  earth — 

This  is  a  mother's  grief! 

Yet  when  the  first  wild  throb  is  past 

Of  anguish  and  despair. 
To  lift  the  eye  of  faith  to  heaven, 

And  think,  "  My  child  is  there  /" 
This  best  can  dry  the  gushing  tears, 

This  yield  the  heart  relief; 
Until  the  christian's  pious  hope 

O'ercomes  the  mother's  grief. 


SOLACE  FOB  BEREAVED  PARENTS.        277 


A  CHILD'S  DEATH 

Was  never  more  sweetly  mourned   than   in  these 
lifies,  by  R.  B.  Sheridan  : — 

In  some  rude  spot  where  vulgar  herbage  grows, 

If  chance  a  violet  rear  its  purple  head, 
The  careful  gardener  moves  it  ere  it  blows, 
To  thrive  and  flourish  in  a  nobler  bed ; 
Such  was  thy  fate,  dear  child, 
Thy  opening  such ! 
Pre-eminence  in  early  bloom  was  shown ; 
For  earth,  too  good,  perhaps ; 
And  lov'd  too  much — 
Heaven  saw,  and  early  mark'd  thee  for  its  own. 

Oh  Lord !  the  message  from  thy  throne  has  come : 
We  hear  thy  voice  and  give  them  back  to  thee ! 

With  tears,  we  lay  our  children  in  the  tomb, 
In  faith,  their  spirits  at  thy  feet  we  see. 

There,  at  the  Almighty  Father's  hand, 

Nearest  the  throne  of  living  light. 
The  choirs  of  infant  Seraphs  stand, 

And  dazzling  shine  where  all  are  bright. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT  DAUGHTER. 

Sweet  babe,  she  glanc'd  into  our  world  to  see 
A  sample  of  our  misery ; 
Then  turned  away  her  languid  eye, 
To  drop  a  tear  or  two,  and  die. 
Sweet  babe,  she  tasted  of  life's  bitter  cup, 
Refus'd  to  drink  the  poison  up  ! 
But  turn'd  her  little  head  aside, 
Disgusted  with  the  taste,  and  died. 
Sweet  babe,  she  listened  for  a  while  to  hear 
Our  mortal  griefs,  then  turned  her  ear 
To  angels'  harps  and  songs,  and  cried — 
To  join  their  notes  celestial,  sighed  and  died. 
24 


278  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Sweet  babe  no  more,  but  seraph  now 

Before  the  throne,  behold  her  bow ; 

To  heavenly  joys  her  spirit  flies, 

Blest  in  the  triumph  of  the  skies ; 

Adores  the  grace  that  brought  her  there 

Without  a  wish — without  a  care ; 

That  wash'd  her  soul  in  Calv'ry's  stream, 

That  shorten'd  life's  distressing  dream. 

Short  pain — short  grief — dear  babe,  was  thine, 

Now  joys  eternal  and  divine. 

Yes,  thou  art  fled,  and  saints  a  welcome  sing, 
Thine  infant  spirit  soars  on  angels'  wing ; 
Our  dark  aflection  would  have  hop'd  thy  stay, 
The  voice  of  God  has  call'd  His  child  away. 
Like  Samuel,  early  in  the  temple  found, 
Sweet  Rose  of  Sharon,  plant  of  holy  ground ; 
Oh  !  more  than  Samuel  blest,  to  thee  'tis  given. 
The  God  he  serv'd  on  earth,  to  serve  in  Heaven. 


"'TWAS  BUT  A  BABE." 

I  ASKED  them  why  the  verdant  turf  was  riven 
From  its  young  rooting,  and  with  silent  lip, 
They  pointed  to  a  new-made  chasm  among 
The  marble-pillared  mansions  of  the  dead. 
Who  goeth  to  his  rest  in  yon  damp  couch  ? 
The  tearless  crowd  past  on — "  'twas  but  a  babe." 
A  Babe  f     And  poise  ye  in  the  rigid  scales 
Of  calculation,  the  fond  bosom's  wealth  ? 
Rating  its  priceless  idols  as  ye  weigh 
Such  merchandize  as  moth  and  rust  corrupt, 
Or  the  rude  robber  steals?     Ye  mete  out  grief, 
Perchance,  when  youth,  maturity  or  age, 
Sink  in  the  thronging  tomb  ;  but  when  the  breath 
Grows  icy  on  the  lip  of  innocence, 
Repress  your  measured  sympathies,  and  say, 
'''Twasbutahaber 

What  know  ye  oT  her  love, 
Who  patient  watcheth,  till  the  stars  grow  dim. 
Over  her  drooping  infant,  with  an  eye 
Bright  as  unchanging  Hope,  if  his  repose  ? 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      279 

What  know  ye  of  her  woe,  who  sought  no  joy- 
More  exquisite,  than  on  his  placid  brow 
To  trace  the  glow  of  health,  and  drink  at  dawn 
The  thrilling  lustre  of  his  waking  smile  ? 

Go  ask  that  musing  father,  why  yon  grave 
So  narrow,  and  so  noteless,  might  not  close 
Without  a  tear  1 

And  though  his  lip  be  mute, 
Feeling  the  poverty  of  speech,  to  give 
Fit  answer  to  thee,  still  his  pallid  brow. 
And  the  deep  agonizing  prayer  that  loads 
Midnight's  dark  wing  to  Am,  the  God  of  strength. 
Might  satisfy  thy  question. 

Ye  who  mourn 
Whene'er  yon  vacant  cradle,  or  the  robes 
That  decked  the  lost  one's  form,  call  back  a  tide 
Of  alienated  joy,  can  ye  not  trust 
Your  treasure  to  his  arms,  whose  changeless  care 
Fasseth  a  mother's  love  ?     Can  ye  not  hope, 
When  a  few  hastening  years  their  course  have  run, 
To  go  to  him,  though  he  no  more  on  earth 
Returns  to  you  ? 

And  when  glad  faith  doth  catch 
Some  echo  of  celestial  harmonies, 
Archangels'  praises,  with  the  high  response 
Of  cherubim,  and  seraphim,  oh  think — 
Think  that  your  babe  is  there. 


TO  MY  DECEASED  INFANT. 

Thou  art  gone  to  rest  in  a  lonely  bed, 
Sweet  form  of  my  precious  child  ! 
In  the  silent  grave  rests  thy  little  head, 
And  hushed  is  thy  voice  so  mild. 

In  a  dreamless  sleep  are  thine  eyelids  closed, 

And  pale  that  sunny  brow. 
And  thy  dimpled  hands  on  thy  bosom  fair. 

Lie  folded  and  quiet  now. 

On  my  cheek  no  more  shall  thy  velvet  lip 

Its  fond  kiss  of  love  impress. 
And  thy  cherished  form  at  this  heart  no  more 

Shall  be  pressed  with  tenderness. 


280      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS 

Yet,  O  child  belov'd,  while  my  loss  I  mourn, 

Not  a  tear  is  shed  for  thee  ; 
For  thy  soul,  uncaged,  has  fled  to  its  home, 

In  a  world  of  purity. 

And  at  Jesus'  feet  thou  dost  worship  now, 

With  a  lovely  infant  throng, 
And  soft  music  swells  from  thy  little  harp, 
And  sweet  is  thy  lisping  song. 

It  is  joy  to  think  that  thy  rest  is  found 
Where  the  skies  are  always  bright ; 

And  this  heart,  tho'  sad,  would  not  call  thee  back 
To  a  land  of  cheerless  night. 

But  at  heaven's  gate,  may  thy  spirit  pure 

Be  the  first  to  welcome  me. 
When  the  toils  of  life,  and  its  griefs  are  o'er, 

To  a  blest  eternity. 

And  together  then,  in  sweet  hymns  of  joy, 
The  Redeemer's  name  we'll  praise; 

And  thy  voice,  new  tuned,  shall  teach  me  the  song 
Thou  didst  first  in  glory  raise. 


THE  MOTHER'S  SOLILOaUY, 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT  SON, 

By  the  Rev.  J.  Lawson. 

Hushed  be  the  murmuring  thought ! 
Thy  will  be' done, 

0  Arbiter  of  life  and  death,  I  bow 

To  thy  command.     I  yield  the  precious  gift 

So  late  bestowed,  and  to  the  silent  grave 

Move  sorrowing,  yet  submissive.     O  sweet  babe  ! 

1  lay  thee  down  to  rest.     The  cold,  cold  earth, 
A  pillow  for  thy  little  head.     Sleep  on 
Serene  in  death !     No  care  shall  trouble  thee : 
All  undisturbed  thou  slumberest,  far  more  still 
Than  when  I  lulled  thee  in  my  lap,  and  soothed 
Thy  little  sorrows  till  they  ceased. 

Then  feh  thy  mother  peace ;  her  heart  was  light 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      281 

As  the  sweet  sigh  that  'scaped  thy  placid  lips, 

And  joyous  as  the  dimpled  smile  that  played 

Across  thy  countenance.     O,  I  must  weep 

To  think  of  thee,  dear  infant,  on  my  knees 

Untroubled  sleeping.     Bending  o'er  thy  form, 

I  watched  with  eager  hope  to  catch  the  laugh. 

First  waking  from  thy  sparkling  eye,  a  beam 

Lovely  to  me,  as  the  blue  light  of  heaven  ; 

Dimmed  in  the  agony  of  death,  it  beams  no  more ! 

O,  yet  once  more  I  kiss  thy  marble  lips. 

Sweet  babe  !  and  press  with  mine  thy  whitened  cheeks ; 

Farewell,  a  long  farewell !     Yet  visit  me 

In  dreams,  my  darling !     Though  the  visioned  joy 

Wake  bitter  pangs  ;  still  be  those  in  my  thoughts, 

And  I  will  cherish  the  dear  dream,  and  think 

I  still  possess  thee.     Peace,  my  bursting  heart ! 

O,  I  submit.     Again  1  lay  thee  down. 

Dear  relic  of  a  mother's  hope.     Thy  spirit, 

Now  mingled  with  cherubic  hosts,  adores 

The  grace  that  ransomed  it,  and  lodged  thee  safe 

Above  the  stormy  scene. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

With  what  unknown  delight  the  mother  smiled. 
When  this  frail  treasure  in  her  arms  she  pressed ! 

Her  prayer  was  heard — she  clasped  a  living  child : 
But  how  the  gift  transcends  the  poor  request ! 

A  child  was  all  she  asked,  with  many  a  vow ! 

Mother — behold  the  child  an  angel  now  ! 

Now  in  her  father's  house  she  finds  a  place, 
Or,  if  to  earth  she  takes  a  transient  flight, 

'Tis  to  fulfil  the  purpose  of  his  grace  : 

To  guide  thy  footsteps  to  the  world  of  light ; — 

A  ministering  spirit  sent  to  thee, 

That  where  she  is,  there  thou  may'st  also  be. 
24* 


282  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


ON  SEEING  AN  INFANT  AFTER  DEATH. 

I  SAW  a  babe  in  death. 

More  beautiful  she  seemed, 
Than  when  the  living  breath 

From  every  feature  beamed  ; 
She  looked  a  spirit  of  the  sky, 
Whispering,  O,  'tis  sweet  to  die ! 

Her  little  hands  so  still ; 

The  alabaster  cheek : 
Eyes  closed,  which  late  would  fill 

With  words  she  could  not  speak  ; 
All  told  the  spirit  stirring  change, 
How  sweet,  how  soft,  but  O,  how  strange ! 

Ye  friends,  why  should  you  weep  ? 

Would  I  were  where  she  is ; 
There  is  no  earthly  sleep 

So  calm,  so  deep  as  this ; 
It  is  the  bridal  night,  that  binds 
Her  spirit  to  the  angel  minds. 


THE  SPIRIT'S  SONG  OF  CONSOLATION. 

Dear  parents,  grieve  no  more  for  me  ; 

My  parents,  grieve  no  more ; 
Believe  that  I  am  happier  far 

Than  e'er  I  was  before. 
I've  left  a  world  where  woe  and  sin 

Swell  onwards  as  a  river. 
And  gained  a  world  where  I  shall  rest 

In  peace  and  joy  for  ever. 

Our  Father  bade  me  come  to  him, 

He  gently  bade  me  come, 
And  he  has  made  his  heavenly  house 

My  dwelling-place  and  home. 
On  that  best  day,  of  all  the  seven, 

Which  saw  our  Saviour  rise, 
I  heard  the  voice  you  could  not  hear, 

Which  called  me  to  the  skies. 


solace'  for  bereaved  parents.  283 

I  saw,  too,  what  you  could  not  see, 

Two  beauteous  angels  stand ; 
They  smiling  stood,  and  looked  at  me, 

And  beckoned  with  their  hand  ; 
They  said  they  were  my  sisters  dear, 

And  they  were  sent  to  bear 
My  spirit  to  their  blest  abode, 

To  live  for  ever  there. 

Then  think  not  of  the  mournful  time 

When  I  resigned  my  breath, 
Nor  of  the  place  where  I  was  laid, 

The  gloomy  house  of  death ; 
But  think  of  that  high  world,  where  I 

No  more  shall  suffer  pain. 
And  of  the  time  when  all  of  us 

In  heaven  shall  meet  again. 


THE  LOST  DARLING. 

She  was  my  idol.     Night  and  day  to  scan 
The  fine  expansion  of  her  form,  and  mark 
The  unfolding  mind,  like  vernal  rose-bud  start 
To  sudden  beauty,  was  my  chief  delight. 
To  find  her  fairy  footsteps  follow  me, 
Her  hands  upon  my  garments,  or  her  lip 
Long  sealed  to  mine,  and  in  the  watch  of  night 
The  quiet  breath  of  innocence  to  feel 
Soft  on  my  cheek,  was  such  a  full  content 
Of  happiness,  as  none  but  mothers  know. 

Her  voice  was  like  some  tiny  harp,  that  yields 
To  the  light  fingered  breeze  ;  and  as  it  held 
Brief  converse  with  her  doll,  or  playful  soothed 
The  moaning  kitten,  or  with  patient  care 
Conned  o'er  the  alphabet — but  most  of  all, 
Its  tender  cadence  in  her  evening  prayer 
Thrilled  on  the  ear  like  some  ethereal  tone 
Heard  in  sweet  dreams. 

But  now  alonff  I  sit, 
Musing  of  her,  and  dew  with  mournful  tears 
Her  little  robes,  that  once  with  woman's  pride 
I  wrought,  as  if  there  were  a  need  to  deck 


284  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

What  God  hath  made  so  beautiful.     I  start, 

Half  fancying  from  her  empty  crib  there  comes 

A  restless  sound,  and  breathe  the  accustomed  words, 

"  Hush  !  Hush  thee,  dearest."     Then  I  bend  and  weep — 

As  though  it  were  a  sin  to  speak  to  one 

Whose  home  is  with  the  angels. 

Gone  to  God ! 
And  yet  I  wish  I  had  not  seen  the  pang 
That  wrung  her  features,  nor  the  ghostly  white 
Settling  around  her  lips,  I  would  that  Heaven 
Had  taken  its  own,  like  some  transplanted  flower, 
Blooming  in  all  its  freshness. 

Gone  to  God ! 
Be  still,  my  heart !  what  could  a  mother's  prayer^ 
In  all  the  wildest  ecstacy  of  hope. 
Ask  for  its  darling  like  the  bliss  of  heaven  ? 


DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

Death  found  strange  beauty  on  that  polished  broWj 
And  dashed  it  out. — 

There  was  a  tint  of  rose 
On  cheek  and  lip. — He  touched  the  veins  with  ice, 
And  the  rose  faded. — 

Forth  from  those  blue  eyes 
There  spake  a  wishful  tenderness,  a  doubt 
Whether  to  grieve  or  sleep,  which  innocence 
Alone  may  wear.     With  ruthless  haste  he  bound 
The  silken  fringes  of  those  curtaining  lids 
Forever. — 

There  had  been  a  murmuring  sound, 
With  which  the  babe  would  claim  its  mother's  ear, 
Charming  her  even  to  tears.     The  spoiler  set 
His  seal  of  silence. — 

But  there  beamed  a  smile 
So  fixed,  so  holy,  from  that  cherub  brow, 
Death  gazed — and  left  it  there. 

He  dared  not  steal 
The  signet-ring  of  heaven. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      285 

THE  MOTHER'S  LAMENT. 

Those  once  loved  voices  all  are  still, 

In  happier  years  so  cheerful ; 
At  rest  is  now  the  ecstatic  thrill, 

The  once  fair  form — how  fearful ! 
All,  all  are  laid  within  the  grave ; 
Nor  tears  nor  prayers  e'en  one  could  save ' 

'<■  Is  there  no  hope  ?"  the  parent  cries ; 

"  From  death  no  glad  revival  ? 
The  cherished  dust,  no  dust  that  lies. 

What  world  waits  its  arrival?" — 
"  That  world,  where  Christ  is  gone  before. 
Is  theirs  and  thine  for  evermore." 

Oh  blissful  scene  !  where  severed  hearts 

Renew  the  ties  most  cherished  ; 
Where  nought  the  mourned  and  mourner  parts ; 

Where  grief  with  life  is  perished. 
Oh  !  nought  do  I  desire  so  well. 
As  here  to  die,  and  there  to  dwell ! 


DIRGE  OP  A  CHILD. 

BY  MRS.  HEMANS. 

No  bitter  tears  for  thee  be  shed. 

Blossom  of  being  !  seen  and  gone  ! 
With  flowers  alone  we  strew  thy  bed, 

O  blest  departed  one  ! 
Whose  all  of  life,  a  rosy  ray, 
Blush'd  into  dawn,  and  pass'd  away. 

Yes !  thou  art  fled,  ere  guilt  had  power 

To  stain  thy  cherub  soul  and  form. 
Closed  is  the  soft  ephemeral  flower. 

That  never  felt  a  storm  ! 
The  sun-beam's  smile,  the  zephyr's  breath. 
All  that  it  knew  from  birth  to  death. 


286      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Thou  wert  so  like  a  form  of  light, 

That  Heaven  benignly  call'd  thee  hence 
Ere  yet  the  world  could  breathe  one  blight 

O'er  thy  sweet  innocence : 
And  thou,  that  brighter  home  to  bless, 
Art  pass'd  with  all  thy  loveliness  ! 

Oh,  hadst  thou  still  on  earth  remain'd. 

Vision  of  beauty  !  fair,  as  brief ! 
How  soon  thy  brightness  had  been  stain'd 

With  passion  or  with  grief ! 
Now  not  a  sullying  breath  can  rise 
To  dim  thy  glory  in  the  skies. 

We  rear  no  marble  o'er  thy  tomb. 

No  sculptured  image  there  shall  mourn  * 
Ah !  fitter  far  the  vernal  bloom 

Such  dwelling  to  adorn. 
Fragrance,  and  flowers,  and  dews,  must  be 
The  only  emblems  meet  for  thee. 

Thy  grave  shall  be  a  blessed  shrine, 
Adorn'd  with  nature's  brightest  wTeath, 

Each  glowing  season  shall  combine 
Its  incense  there  to  breathe ; 

And  oft  upon  the  midnight  air. 

Shall  viewless  harps  be  murmuring  there. 

And  oh  !  sometimes  in  visions  blest, 

Sweet  spirit !  visit  our  repose, 
And  bear  from  thine  own  world  of  rest, 

Some  balm  for  human  woes  ! 
What  form  more  lovely  could  be  given 
Than  thine,  as  messenger  of  Heaven  ? 


ON  THE  DEATH  OP  A  CHILD. 

Life  is  a  span,  a  fleeting  hour ; 

How  soon  the  vapour  flies ! 
Man  is  a  tender,  transient  flower, 

That  e'en  in  bloomina-  dies. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      287 

Death  spreads  his  with'ring  wintry  arms, 

And  beauty  smiles  no  more  : 
Ah  !  where  are  now  those  rising  charms 

Which  pleas'd  our  eyes  before  ? 

Hope  looks  beyond  the  bounds  of  time, 

When  what  we  now  deplore 
Shall  rise  in  full  immortal  prime. 

And  bloom  to  fade  no  more. 

Cease  then,  fond  nature,  cease  thy  tears ; 

Thy  Saviour  dwells  on  high : 
There  everlasting  spring  appears, 

There  joys  shall  never  die. 


THE  DYING  SON. 

Nay,  mother,  fix  not  thus  on  me 

That  streaming  eye, 
And  clasp  not  thus  my  freezing  hand ; 

For  I  must  die. 

Deeply  I've  drunk  the  wormwood  draught, 

The  grief,  the  pain  ; 
Oh !  ask  me  not  one  bitter  drop 

To  taste  again. 

My  father,  on  my  weary  head, 

O  lay  thine  hand  ; 
And  bless  me  while  I  yet  can  hear 

Thy  accents  bland : 

And  smile,  as  thou  wert  wont  to  do 

In  happy  days, 
When  I  looked  to  thy  loving  eye, 

And  sought  its  praise. 

Loved  parents,  when  my  infant  couch 

Ye  knelt  beside, 
And  asked  the  gracious  Lord  to  bless 

Your  hope,  your  pride : 


288      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

To  Him  ye  gave  the  opening  bud, 

The  early  bloom ; 
Then  grieve  not  that  the  ripened  fruit 

He  gathers  home. 


THE  INFANT'S  HOME. 
OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF  TWIN  CHILDREN. 

Where  are  ye  now,  sweet  pair  ? 
Vacant  is  now  your  place  of  cradled  rest ; 
Ye  slumber  not  upon  a  mother's  breast, 

Where  is  your  home — oh  !  where  ? 

How  beautiful  ye  were. 
With  your  meek,  peaceful  brows  and  laughing  eyes, 
All  eloquent  of  life's  first  energies. 

And  joy's  bright  fount,  yet  clear. 

How  blithely  ye  awoke 
With  each  new  day  ;  familiar  forms  were  there 
To  meet  your  eager  glance — kind  voices  near, 

In  gentle  accents  spoke. 

Ye  seemed  then  to  be. 
As  some  pale  flower,  that  to  the  morning's  light 
Rears  its  frail  stem,  and  spreads  its  petals  bright 

As  if  confidingly. 

And  when,  at  evening's  close. 
Those  little  hands,  relaxing  from  the  grasp. 
That  some  dear  object  held,  with  loving  clasp, 

Ye  sunk  into  repose. 

Love  made  your  slumber  seem 
As  the  closed  flowers,  o'er  which  the  silent  star 
Keepeth  its  ceaseless  vigil  from  afar, 

And  sheds  its  unfelt  beam. 

I  looked  upon  you  then 
With  thoughts  almost  of  sorrow  in  my  gaze, 
As  on  a  passing  joy,  which  other  days 

Would  make  not  mine  afrain. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  289 

I  feared  some  change  might  sweep 
Through  the  untroubled  breast,  and  leave  its  stain  j^ 
Some  unsuspected  ill,  some  bitter  pain, 

Mar  with  sad  dreams  your  sleep. 

I  know  that  change  has  past 
O'er  you,  sweet,  tender  nurslings  !  but  I  know 
Your  spirits  now  will  never  taste  of  woe, — 

That  change  will  be  the  last. 

Ye  are  before  me  now, 
As  ye  were  wont  to  be — no  beauty  gone. 
That  in  those  eyes,  even  when  tearful,  shone, 

No  charm  from  those  pure  brows. 

Too  calm,  too  deeply  still. 
Is  that  unchanging  picture  ;  yet  a  part 
Of  the  sweet  visions  of  the  past, 

Can  make  its  own  at  will. 

And  thus  ye  are  mine  own, — 
Mine  own,  to  dwell  upon  with  quiet  lo^e  ; 
Thoughts  the  world  cannot  touch,  nor  time  remove — 

From  me  ye  are  not  gone. 

I  ask  not,  where  are  laid 
Those  faded  forms — whether  below  the  sod 
Which  busy  feet  have  with  indifference  trod, 

Or  'neath  some  Aimdly  shade. 

Where,  or>  earth's  tranquil  breast. 
The  peacf^  of  the  Eternal  One  hath  smiled, 
E'en  as-  a  mother  o'er  her  cradled  child, 

Tiiere  is  your  place  of  rest. 

He,  who  mankind  shall  wake, 
Over  his  children's  rest  a  watch  doth  keep. 
And  with  a  voice  that  breathes  of  love,  the  sleep 

Of  innocence  will  break. 

Not  in  that  simple  tomb, 
But  in  "  our  Father's  house,"  where  love  shall  be 
Abiding,  even  in  its  own  sanctuary. 

There  is  the  infant's  home. 
25 


290  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

TO  A  MOTHER  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HER  INFANT 

Sure  to  the  mansions  of  the  blest, 
Where  infant  innocence  ascends, 

Some  angel  brighter  than  the  rest, 
The  spotless  spirit's  flight  attends. 

There  at  th'  Almighty  Father's  hand, 
Nearest  the  throne  of  living  light, 

The  choirs  of  infant  seraphs  stand. 

And  dazzling  shine  where  all  are  bright. 

When  thus  the  Lord  of  mortal  breath 

Decrees  his  bounty  to  resume. 
And  points  the  silent  shaft  of  death, 

Which  speeds  our  infants  to  the  tomb. 

Oh !  think  the  darlings  of  thy  love, 
Divested  of  this  earthly  clod. 


Amid  un  number 'd  saints  above 


Bask  in  the  bosom  of  their  God 


l-tTE  GRAVE. 

There  is  no  monument  to  Kxark  the  spot ; 

Two  feet  of  grass  are  all  th&t  o'er  it  wave ; 
The  stranger  passes,  but  he  heeds  it  not ; 
It  is  an  infant's  grave. 

But  there  are  two  who  know  the  spot  full  well. 

And  visit  it,  full  oft,  at  evening  tide  ; 
For  when  the  child  entombed  within  it  fell, 
Fell  all  their  earthly  pride. 

The  mother  as  she  decks  it  round  with  flowers, 
Waters  with  tears  the  little  new-grown  sod  ; 
The  father  bends  his  knee,  and  sadly  pours 
His  vexed  soul  to  God. 

Grieve  not,  ye  sad  ones  !  does  the  spirit  sleep  ? 

'Tis  with  the  Lord,  who  took  but  what  he  gave 
Angelic  spirits  nightly  vigils  keep 
O'er  your  infant's  grave. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  291 


I  WILL  not  weep,  my  boy,  for  thee, 

Though  thou  wer't  all  the  world  to  me  ! 

I  would  not  wish  thee  wak'd  again, 

To  strive  like  me  with  want  and  pain. 

I  will  but  close  that  still  bright  eye, 

And  kiss  that  brow  so  pale  and  high. 

And  those  pure  lips,  whose  tones  divine, 

Caught  their  first  words,  first  pray'rs  from  mine 

And  fold  thee  to  this  bosom  lone. 

Which  thou  has  left  as  cold's  thine  own, — 

And  thus  implore  the  God  who  takes, — 

To  help  the  heart  thine  absence  breaks  ! 

My  boy — my  boy — this  darken'd  earth 

Shall  never  more  to  me  seem  fair; 
And  I  shall  stand,  'mid  all  its  mirth, 

Like  something  which  should  not  be  there ! 
Yet,  'twas  to  heav'n  thy  soul  was  borne, 
And  wherefore  should  thy  parent  mourn  ? 
Perhaps  in  mercy.  He  reprov'd 
The  selfish  zeal  with  which  I  lov'd. 
I'll  mourn  no  more  !  my  God,  thou  knowest 
The  wealth  my  desolated  heart  has  lost ! 
Oh !  shield  me  from  repining  cares, 
When  other  parents  point  to  theirs ; 
Bring  back  that  light  I  now  behold, — 
Oh,  those  lov'd  features,  calm  and  cold, — 
That  deathless  smile,  which  whispers  me, 
He  died  in  peace  and  joy  with  Thee ! 
My  boy — my  boy — sustaining  Pow'r, 

Thy  sinking  mother  well  may  crave, — 
For  welcome  shall  be  that  blest  hour. 

Which  sees  her  share  thy  lonely  grave ! 


RESIGNATION  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN  INFANT. 

Now,  O  Lord,  to  thee  submitting, 

We  the  tender  pledge  resign  ; 
And  thy  mercies  ne'er  forgetting, 

Own  that  all  we  have  is  thine. 


292      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Rest,  sweet  babe,  in  gentle  slumbers, 
Till  the  resurrection  morn  ; 

Then  arise  to  join  the  numbers, 
Who  its  triumphs  shall  adorn. 

Though  thy  presence  was  endearing, 
Though  thy  absence  we  deplore, 

At  the  Saviour's  bright  appearing, 
We  shall  meet  to  part  no  more. 


DEATH  OP  A  CHILD. 

Alas  !  how  chang'd  that  lovely  flower. 
Which  bloom'd  and  cheer' d  my  heart ! 

Fair  smiling  comfort  of  an  hour, 
How  soon  we're  call'd  to  part ! 

And  shall  my  bleeding  heart  arraign 
That  God  whose  ways  are  love  ? 

Or  vainly  cherish  anxious  pain 
For  one  that  rests  above  ? 

No !  let  me  rather  humbly  pay 

Obedience  to  thy  will ; 
And  with  my  inmost  spirit  say, 

The  Lord  is  righteous  still. 

The  darkest  nights  and  loudest  storms 

Of  earth  will  soon  be  o'er  ; 
Then  upward  with  th'  angelic  forms, 

We'll  rise  to  meet  no  more. 


STANZAS. 


"  Ostendent  terris  banc  tantum  fata,  nee  ultra 
Esse  sinent." 

Haste  to  depart.     The  breeze  of  earth 

Is  all  too  rude  for  thee  ; 
For  thou  wast  destin'd  from  thy  birth 

For  realms  more  fair  and  free. 
Our  warmest  beams  too  coldly  glow, 

Thy  beauties  to  expand  ; 
Thy  spirit  lingers  here  below, 

As  in  a  foreign  land. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  293 

Haste  to  depart.     The  wandering  dove, 

Benighted  as  it  flies, 
Pants  not  to  gain  its  bower  of  love, 

As  thou  to  reach  the  skies. 
The  hours  of  spring-tide  come,  but  bring 

No  spring-time  to  thy  heart ; 
Among  the  leaves  sweet  voices  sing, 

Thou  heed'st  them  not.     Depart ! 

And  yet  to  us  thou  art  as  dear 

As  earthly  thing  can  be  ; 
And  we  are  fain  to  keep  thee  here, 

And  share  our  hearts  with  thee ; 
The  thought,  how  brief  thy  sojourning 

In  this  low  vale  must  prove, 
But  makes  us  closer  round  thee  cling, 

And  wakes  to  deeper  love  ! 

Haste  to  depart.     We  would  not  dare 

To  stay  thy  wing  from  heaven  ; 
And  all  thy  love,  and  all  thy  care, 

To  God  alone  be  given. 
Though  darkness  veil  our  future  hours, 

Nor  thou  be  near  to  shine, 
The  bitter  loss  can  be  but  ours, 

The  gain  immortal,  thine. 

Thy  mossy  grave  our  tears  shall  wet, 

When  thou  art  lowly  laid, 
But  thy  freed  spirit  shall  forget 

All  of  this  earth's  dim  shade  ; 
When  crown'd  and  robb'd  in  spotless  white, 

Washed  in  the  fount  above  ; 
The  Fount  of  blessedness  and  light, 

A  great  Redeemer's  love  ! 
25* 


ii$t  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS/ 


THE  SPIRIT  VOICE 

A  LITTLE  child  said  to  her  father  a  few  days  before 
her  death, — "  God  calls  me."  She  was  then  well,  but 
the  next  Sabbath  she  died. 

God  called  her  hence — the  breath  of  prayer 

Had  gone  unto  his  throne  ; 
And  mighty  like  an  incense  there. 

The  voice  of  praise  had  flown. 

God  called  her  hence — that  solemn  tone 

Upon  her  slumber  broke, 
As  if  an  angel's  golden  harp. 

On  earth  its  music  woke. 

Whence  did  it  come — ^that  spirit  voice. 

Unheard  by  all  but  her? 
Like  that  which  breathed  from  human  lips. 

The  brooding  air  doth  stir  1 

Is  it  a  dream  too  wild  and  vain, 

That  in  our  world  of  clay, 
Though  hid  from  mortal  sense  and  ken, 

A  spirit  realm  may  lay — 

That  tones  are  breathing  all  around. 

Too  subtle  for  our  air, . 
And  music  woke,  whose  blissful  thrill 

Our  sense  could  never  bear — 

That  on  the  very  air  we  breathe. 

Bright  forms  are  floating  by. 
With  but  a  filmy  veil  to  hide 

Their  glory  from  the  eye  ? 

This  may  not  be — but  O,  there  is 

A  being  ever  near, 
To  whom  thy  bosom's  secret  thoughts, 

Arrayed  in  light  appear. 

And  though  the  realm  of  life  or  death, 

Enrobed  in  mystery  be. 
The  Sun  of  Righteousness  at  last, 

Shall  make  it  light  to  thee. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      295 


AN  AFFECTING  SCENE. 

m 
The  following  lines  describe  the  suffering  and  death  of 
a  young  wife  and  her  children,  from  the  intempe- 
rance of  the  husband  and  father.  The  wife  was 
taken  suddenly  ill  in  a  very  cold  night,  and  left 
alone  with  her  little  ones,  while  her  husband  went  to 
procure  a  physician  and  other  needful  assistance; 
the  nearest  house  being  over  two  miles  distant :  but 
he  went  into  a  tavern,  became  intoxicated,  remained 
so  for  some  time,  and,  on  his  return  home,  found 
them  all  dead.  It  is  supposed  the  mother  died  soon 
after  the  birth  of  her  child — that  the  boy  struggled 
longest — that  in  trying  to  soothe  his  expiring  sister, 
he  sank  down  beside  her,  and  could  not  at  last  re- 
lease himself  from  her  arms.  With  what  feelings 
can  Christians  pursue  a  business  which  has  a  natu- 
ral tendency  to  produce  such  results?  The  words 
are  by  Mr.  Larned, 

O !  Mother  dear,  my  hps  are  dry, 

And  Bessy's  hands  are  cold ; 
Mother,  dear  mother  !  help  me  nigh 

Your  bosom — surely  you  can  hold 
Your  little  boy.     I  will  not  cry, 

Nor  ask  again  for  drink  or  bread, 
If  you  will  only  let  me  lie 

Upon  your  breast,  and  hold  my  head. 

O  Mother  !  call  your  little  boy 

To  your  bedside — he'll  try  to  crawl: 

You  said  I  was  your  only  joy, 

Your  darling  Henry,  and  your  all ; 

And  then  you  looked  and  screamed  out  so^ 

Boy  !  to  your  cruel  father  go. 

Why  do  you  weep  and  wail  to  me  ? 

Fly !  fly  !  I've  nothing  here  for  thee  I 


296      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

Don't  stare  on  me,  my  mother  dear, 

I'm  still — though  Bessy  will  not  stir  • 
And  she's  too  cold  to  lie  so  near — 

O,  why  donl^father  come  to  her  ? 
i'   ^'.■'  Poor  Bessy  cried  herself  to  sleep ; 

I  wish  I  could — but  when  I  try, 
My  lips  won't  shut — and  always  keep 

Wide  open  on  your  staring  eye  ! 

Mother !   how  can  you  lie  so  still, 
With  that  dead  baby  in  your  arms  ? 

Who  did  that  little  dear  one  kill? 

You  said  'twas  now  safe  from  all  harms. 

Can't  I  be  dead  too,  mother,  say? 
L>-L..:  I'ni  sure  'tis  very  lonesome  here ; 

Is  Heaven  a  very  great  long  way  ? 
And  is  our  father  waiting  there? 

I'm  tired  now,  and  cannot  go ; 
And  the  bright  sun  does  blind  me  so ; 
Oh  !  shut  your  eyes,  dear  mother,  do  ;  • 
And  let  me  love  to  gaze  on  you. 
How  can  you  see  us  lying  thus, 

On  this  iced  floor — our  feet  so  cold  ? 
Once  you  would  fondly  run  to  us, 

And  round  us  both  the  blankets  fold. 

I'm  falling — oh  !  the  room  turns  round  ? 

I  cannot  see  you  now, — but  hark  ! 
I  hear  a  soft  and  pleasant  sound — 

Perhaps  it  is  the  little  lark. 
I  love  such  sounds  as  these  to  hear — 

And  it  is  dark  no  longer  now ; 
Dear  little  girls  with  wings  are  near, 

And  they  are  smiling  on  me  too. 

Oh  !  'tis  their  songs  so  sweet  and  clear — 
I  think  I  hear  them  softly  say, 

Dear  children,  stay  no  longer  here — 
Come,  come  with  us,  we'll  lead  the  way. 

It  must  be  heaven  where  they  dwell — 

I  come  !  I  come.     Mother  !  Farewell. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      297 

DEATH. 

BY    MISS    PARDOE. 

This  is  a  world  of  care, 

And  many  thorns  upon  its  pathway  lie ; 
Weep  not,  then,  mothers,  for  your  fond  and  fair, 
Let  the  young  die  ! 

Joys  are  lik^  summer  flowers, 

And  soon  the  blossoms  of  their  beauty  fall, 
Clouds  bloom  o'er  both ;  brief  are  both  the  hours, 
Death  ends  them  all ! 

This  is  a  world  of  strife. 

Of  feverish  struggles,  and  satiety. 
And  blighted  enterprise — what  then  is  life  ? 
Let  the  strong  die  ! 

All  human  love  is  vain, 

And  human  might  is  but  an  empty  sound ; 
Power  of  mind  and  body  bringeth  pain — 
Death  is  its  bound  I 

This  is  a  world  of  woe, 

Of  heaviness,  and  anxiety : 
Why  cling  we  then  to  evils  that  we  know  ? 
Let  the  old  die  ! 

Wrestling  with  fell  disease, 

Vain  lamentations  o'er  departed  years ^ 
Is  not  age  rife  with  these  1 

Death  dries  all  tears ! 

This  is  a  world  of  pain : 

There  is  a  better  land  beyond  the  sky  j 
A  humble  spirit  may  that  portion  gain — 
Let  the  just  die  ! 

But  let  those  shrink  with  dread. 

Whose  days  have  been  of  evil,  lest  they  find, 
When  all  their  earthly  hopes  are  withered, 
Despair  behind  1 


298  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PAR1ENTS. 

Let  them  implore  for  aid, 

A  fitter  record  of  their  years  to  give ; 
And  lean  on  Him  who  mercifully  bade 
The  sinner  live ! 


THE  FATHER  OVER  HIS  DEAD  CHILD. 

BY  CATHARINE  PONSONBY. 

We  little  thought,  my  darling  boy, 

When  to  my  heart  I  pressed  thee. 
And  blending  with  my  sighs,  '•  farewell," 

With  ardent  love  caressed  thee, 
'Twould  be  our  last  adieu  on  earth, 

Thy  latest  breathing  kiss  ! 
We  meet  again  ! — but  ah,  my  child  ! 

A  bitter  meeting  this. 

Thy  bright  blue  eye  is  closed  in  death, 

Thy  merry  laugh  is  o'er  ! 
Thy  thousand  winning  ways,  alas ! 

Shall  charm  this  heart  no  more. 
Ah !  could'st  thou  not  have  lingered,  love, 

To  cheer  me  yet  awhile, 
Life's  scenes  to  bless  and  brighten  still. 

With  thy  sweet,  radiant  smile  ? 

Had  I  but  seen  thee  once  again, 

And  watched  thy  dying  bed. 
Caught  the  last  flick'ring  of  thy  breath, 

Pillowed  thy  drooping  head ; 
My  heart,  methinks,  would  not  have  felt 

This  bitterness  of  grief; 
Though  sad  the  past,  to  love  it  gives 

A  sacred,  sweet  relief 

But  shall  I  mourn  thy  loss,  my  child, 

Without  one  solaced  feeling, 
Or  beam  of  light  within  the  cloud, 
;:;High,  heavenly  hopes  revealing? 
Forgive,  my  God,  the  bitter  grief, 

Which  murmured  thy  behest, 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      299 

Thy  love  divine  which  made  my  child 
An  Angel  bright  and  blest. 

Teach  me  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done !" 

'Tis  kindest,  wisest,  best — 
The  cloud-robed  tempest  'mid  its  ire, 

Bears  blessings  in  its  breast. 
Though  darkness  deep  invests  his  path, 

Yet  glories  gem  his  crown, 
And  merry  beams  through^all  the  clouds 

That  o'er  his  footsteps  frown. 

My  stricken  heart  to  Jesus  yields 
Love's  deep  devotion  now. 

Adores  and  blesses — while  it  bleeds — 
His  hand  that  strikes  the  blow. 

Then  fare  thee  well — a  little  while- 
Life's  troubled  dream  is  past ; 

And  I  shall  meet  with  thee,  my  child, 
In  life — in  bliss,  at  last ! 


MARY'S  RECIUEST. 

BY   MRS.    L.    H.    SIGOURNBY, 

There  was  a  shaded  chamber, 

A  silent,  watching  band, 
On  a  low  couch  a  suffering  child 

Who  grasped  the  mother's  hand. 

She  told  her  faith  in  Jesus—- 
Her  simple  prayer  was  said. 

And  now  that  darkened  vale  she  trod. 
Which  leadeth  to  the  dead. 

Red  fever  scorched  her  bosoms- 
Frost  chilled  the  vital  flame, 

And  her  sweet  brow  was  troubled, 
As  anguish  smote  her  frame. 

Yet  'mid  the  grasp  and  struggle, 
With  shuddering  lips  she  cried, 


<3Q0  SOLACE   FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

"  O  mother, — dearest  mother, 
Bury  me  by  your  side." 

"  But  where  will  you  be  buried  ? 

My  darling  Mary — where  ? 
In  the  green,  shady  dell  you  loved. 

With  earliest  violets  fair  ? 

Or  in  the  ancient  church-yard, 
Where  we  were  wont  to  stray, 

'Mid  the  white  marble  monuments. 
My  little  Mary— say  ?" 

But  the  thought  of  flowers  had  faded — 
The  green  dell  charmed  no  more. 

Dim  grew  those  marble  monuments, 
With  all  their  lettered  lore. 

And  one  lone  image  lingered, — 
Bright  'mid  the  wreck  of  earth, — 

That  love,  with  which  her  soul  was  knit, 
Even  from  the  hour  of  birth. 

One  only  wish  she  uttered. 
While  life  was  ebbing  fast, — 

"  Sleep  by  my  side,  dear  mother, 
And  rise  with  me  at  last." 

'Tis  o'er,— the  spirit  parted. 

With  that  long,  tender  moan, — 

Check  not  thy  grief,  fond  mother, — 
Thou  daughterless  and  lone : 

Weep  freely, — Christ  hath  hallowed 
The  tear  that  nature  wrings, — 

And  see, — how  peaceful  rests  the  clay, 
That  pain  no  longer  stings. 

Look  !  look  ! — the  thin  lip  quivers, 

The  blue  eyes  open  wide, 
And  what  a  hollow  whisper  steals, — 

^  Buryme  bp  your  side  "  '^  ' 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  301 

And  did  the  spirit  falter 

Upon  its  upward  track, 
To  strew  this  never-dying  flower 

In  tender  token  back? — 

Even  at  the  gates  of  Heaven, 

Whence  songs  of  angels  flow, 
Remembered  it  the  cradle  hymn 

That  soothed  its  infant  wo. 


THE  DYING  CHILD. 

"  Sweet  mother,  I  seem  gentle  music  to  hear." 

"  'Tis  but  fancy,  my  child ;  turn  to  slumber  again." 

"  Nay,  surely  'tis  music ;  hark,  mother  !  'tis  near ; 
It  floats  round  my  couch  with  its  gladdening  strain." 

" 'Tis  but  fancy,  my  child ;  let  me  moisten  thy  lips; 

These  breezes  will  temper  thy  feverish  brow ; 
Some  bee  buzzes  by  as  its  nectar  it  sips ; 

'Tis  nothing,  my  child,  thou  wilt  rest  better  now." 

"  Then  'tis  nothing,  dear  mother,  and  yet  sure  'tis  sweet  j 
It  comforts  my  soul,  for  it  whispers  of  bliss : 

Were  I  dying,  and  angels  my  spirit  would  greet. 
They  could  not  bring  welcomer  music  than  this. 

"  And  do  you  not  hear  it !  and  do  you  not  see 
Yon  seraph  that  beckons  me  hence  to  the  sky  ? 

Perhaps,  dearest  mother,  'tis  sent  but  to  me ; 
May  I  go  if  it  calls?  may  I  yield  it  reply?" 

Gentle  babe,  I  come  for  thee : 

I  did  come  to  bear  thee  home. 
Far  from  mortal  agony  ; 

Come,  then,  gentle  infant,  come. 

Cool  shall  be  that  fervid  cheek, 

Every  tear  be  wiped  away ; 
Ere  the  orient  morning  break, 

Thou  shalt  be  in  endless  day. 
2fi 


302  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Yes,  meek  babe,  'twas  I  that  sang ; 

Heavenly  anthems  thou  didst  hear ; 
Strains  to  soothe  thy  dying  pang, 

Hymns  thy  parting  soul  to  cheer. 

Tell  her  on  whose  tender  breast 
Soft  reclines  thy  fainting  head, 

Thou  shalt  shortly  be  at  rest — 
Say  not,  numbered  with  the  dead. 

No ;  while  o'er  thy  mouldering  dust 
Falls  the  tear  of  earthly  love, 

Thou  shalt  live  amidst  the  just, 
Brighter  life  in  heaven  above. 

Bid  her,  then,  sweet  babe,  rejoice 
That  to  her  the  boon  is  given, 

To  resign,  at  Jesus'  voice. 
One  more  cherub  saint  to  keaven. 


MY  BROTHER. 

Is  this  my  little  brother  ? 

How  cold  he  is,  and  still ; 
Do  take  him  up,  dear  mother ! 

Is  he  not  very  ill  ? 

No,  no  !  my  child,  the  dear  one 

Will  suffer  no  more  pain, 
'Tis  death  makes  him  so  silent : 

He  will  not  move  again. 

Not  hold  his  little  arms  out? 

Nor  make  his  pleasant  noise  I 
Nor  open  wide  his  tiny  hand,' 

To  take  the  pretty  toys. 

*Twas  little  brother's  spirit 

Which  made  him  laugh  and  play; 
That  which  you  loved  you  see  not, 

There's  nothing  here  but  clay. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      303 

Why  do  you  weep,  then,  mother  ? 

You  said,  the  other  day, 
To  die  was  only  going  home ; 

Did  brother  want  to  stay  ? 

Will  God  love  to  see  him, 

And  show  him  pretty  things? 
And  if  he  cries  to  come  to  you, 

Won't  he  give  him  little  wings? 

He  has  not  gone  away,  child ; 

If  we  love  him  with  our  hearts, 
His  spirit  will  stay  with  us, 

When  this  little  form  departs 

If  you  are  good  and  gentle, 

He  will  always  be  with  you ; 
And  I  will  try  to  grieve  no  more, 

If  you  are  kind  and  true. 

We'll  kiss  once  more  those  lips, 

Then  we  will  go  away  ; 
And  God  will  give  us  happy  thoughts, 

If  we  ask  him  when  we  pray. 

Mary. 


BURIAL  IN  THE  COUNTRY. 

BY  MISS  A.  M.  F.  BUCHANAN. 

The  sunlight  through  the  window's  vines 

Came  in  upon  the  dead — 
A  fair  young  child — and  touched  with  gold 

The  ringlets  of  its  head. 
A  smile  so  bright  was  round  its  lips 

And  on  its  dimpled  cheek. 
So  life-like  through  the  lashes  long 

Shone  out  an  azure  streak. 
That  in  a  childish  playfulness 

Its  eyes  were  closed,  it  seemed, 
To  peep  upon  the  glorious  thing 

Whence  the  effulgence  streamed. 


304  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

It  lay  where  it  had  sunk  to  rest, 

Upon  a  snow-white  bed. 
On  which  the  bright  and  balmy  air 

Its  coolness  oft  had  shed ; 
And,  full  in  sight,  all  pictured  o'er 

With  chequered  greens  of  June, 
Majestic  hills  arose,  and  streams 

Sang  their  sweet,  changeless  tune  ; 
And  bees,  from  out  the  garden  hive, 

And  birds  were  winging  by ; — 
With  its  calm  cheerfulness,  it  was 

A  lovely  place  to  die. 

No  studied  words  of  sympathy 

Were  coldly  whispered  round ; 
The  silence  of  the  humble  throng 

Told  more  than  measured  sound. 
A  step  anon  the  couch  would  seek, 

A  tear  the  shroud  would  wet, 
And  mothers  clasped  their  babes  with  thanks 

That  God  had  spared  them  yet ; 
And  children  touched  the  cold,  white  brow, 

And  then  in  awe  stood  by, 
Their  new-learnt  lesson  thinking  o'er 

Of  angels  in  the  sky. 

An  aged  man  with  meek,  low  voice, 

And  simple  words  and  few. 
Arose,  and  from  the  Book  of  God 

Inspiring  comfort  drew ; 
He  said  that  types  to  teach  our  doom 

Were  still  our  eyes  before ; 
He  pointed  to  the  morning  flower 

O'ershado wing  the  door; 
And  said  its  bloom,  so  bright,  and  brief, 

A  child's  existence  shared ; — 
Then  who  could  look  on  it,  nor  be 

For  early  death  prepared. 

And  sobs  gushed  forth,  as  from  the  home, 

Whence  had  for  ever  gone 
The  echoes  of  a  loved,  young  voice,  i  :>T 

The  solemn  train  passed  on.  ^     ^  i'  K-n.',    vAr' 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  305 

Hailed  by  that  holy  comforter, 

The  freshj  soft  morning  air, 
They  wound  along  the  woodland  path 

Where  birds  and  blossoms  were. 
The  fragrance  and  the  melody 

So  breathed  of  love  and  peace. 
That  soon  the  hearts  most  anguished,  felt 

Their  throbs  impatient  cease. 

And  then  within  the  church-yard  gate 

The  lowly  bier  they  stood. 
Thick  strown  with  sweet  acacia  flowers, 

That  fell  while  in  the  wood ; 
And  hands  that  oft  had  fondled  it. 

While  flowed  its  winning  mirth, 
Let  gently  down  the  coflined  form 

Into  the  silent  earth  ; 
So  carefully  the  sod  they  laid, 

That  ere  they  ceased,  had  come 
The  bees  to  the  un  withered  thyme 

And  filled  it  with  their  hum. 

'T would  be  a  chilling  thought  to  one 

Whose  love  is  Nature's  bloom, 
Whose  oracles  are  every  leaf, 

That  in  a  dark,  cold  room 
He  must  be  laid  to  die,  where  ne'er 

The  stir  of  forest  trees, 
Or  murmurs  of  unfettered  streams 

Sent  their  deep  homilies  ; 
That  when  the  Almighty's  summoner 

His  heart  were  stilled  to  hear. 
The  ribald  shouts  of  reckless  crowds 

Should  rise  upon  his  ear. 

'Twould  be  a  chilling  thought,  that  when 

He  sinks  to  silent  clay, 
The  ones  he  loved  must  chain  their  sighs 

Along  the  crowded  way  ; 
And,  though  with  anthems  thrilling  sad, 

And  sombre  pall  and  plumes. 
And  .knells  to  strike  into  the  soul 

They  bore  him  midst  the  tombs ; 


306  SOLACE    FOR   BEREAVED    PARENTS. 


That  careless  tongues  their  tears  should  count 

And  strangers  cold  and  rude, 
Cast  down  the  turf,  and  sneering  bid 

The  worm  to  take  his  food. 


Oh !  that  this  hour  of  doom  might  come 

Far  from  the  city's  din, 
Where  things  of  beauty,  ever  round 

His  heart's  sweet  guides  had  been ! 
Where  Friendship,  at  its  last  sad  rite, 

Unchecked  might  rest  and  weep, 
And  Memory,  o'er  his  ashes,  oft, 

Unseen,  a  vigil  keep ; 
Where  solitude  and  silence  might 

E'en  worldlings  unenslave. 
To  pause,  and  rev^erently  glean 

A  moral  from  his  grave  ! 


DYING  THOUGHTS  OF  A  YOUNG  CHILD. 

Mother — the  light  of  day  is  parting, 

From  my  weary  eye, 
And  my  spirit  is  departing 

To  the  blessed  sky. 
One  unfading  hope  before  me 

Whispers  it  is  well : 
Brighter  visions  hover  o'er  me 

Than  the  lip  can  tell. 

On  my  young  imagination 

Bursts  a  purer  light, 
Than  the  beauty  of  creation 

Sheds  upon  my  sight — 
Is  it  but  a  lonely  vision, 

Fading  in  its  birth, — 
Or  the  spirit's  sweet  transition 

From  the  bonds  of  earth? 

Will  my  hand,  unwearied,  gather 

Brighter  flowers  than  we 
Culled — when  once  we  roamed  together:  • 

Mother — shall  I  see 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  307' 

Birds,  like  those  whose  song  I  listened 

In  the  quiet  wood ; 
Insects,  bright  as  those  that  glistened 

In  the  sunlight's  flood  ? 

Do  not  all  men  love  each  other 

In  a  world  like  this? 
The  world's  coldness  !  tell  me,  mother, 

What  that  coldness  is : 
I  have  found  its  scenes  enchanting, 

And  its  love  sincere, 
Yet  my  w^eary  soul  is  panting 

For  a  purer  sphere — 

For  my  Saviour's  words  steal  o'er  me, 

Holy,  kind  and  sweet — 
Little  children,  come  before  me, 

And  your  shepherd  meet. 
Mother,  will  not  Jesus  give  me 

More  than  earthly  love — 
Will  his  outstretched  arms  receive  me 

To  a  home  above  ? 

Though  on  earth  I  have  been  dwelling 

But  a  summer's  day, 
Hopes  within  my  heart  are  swelling, 

As  its  powers  decay. 
God  to  my  young  heart  hath  spoken 

Many  a  sunny  word, 
And  his  love,  by  many  a  token, 

In  my  soul  was  stirred. 

Read  once  more  that  sweet  narration, 

I  so  love  to  hear. 
How  our  Lord,  for  man's  salvation. 

Left  his  heavenly  sphere  ; 
How  his  precious  love  hath  freed  us. 

How  his  word  can  save — 
And  how  safely  he  will  lead  us 

Through  the  silent  grave. 

When  my  voice  in  this  dear  mansion 
Is  no  longer  heard, 


308      SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS. 

May  thy  soul,  with  pure  expansion, 

Rest  upon  his  word  ; 
From  its  page  a  light  is  shining, 

And  a  holy  spell, 
Which  forbids  the  heart's  repining: 

Mother — fare  thee  well. 


DEATH  OF  THE  YOUNG. 

Sleep,  little  one !  the  summer  winds  are  breathing 

A  gentle  hymn,  to  lull  thy  quiet  rest ; 
Around  thy  tomb,  in  mournful  beauty  wreathing 

The  ivy  creeps,  in  fresh' ning  verdure  dressed. 

Sleep  on,  my  love  !  the  summer  flowers  are  springing 

In  holy  peace  above  thy  mouldering  head, 
To  guard  thy  dust,  and  from  their  bosoms  flinging 

A  mingled  sweetness  o'er  thy  silent  bed. 

We  miss  thee,  love  !  thy  joyous  face  once  blushing 
With  rosy  light,  death-shades  have  overcast; 

But  ah  !  how  oft  these  heart-felt  tears  are  gushing. 
To  think  our  eyes  on  thee  have  looked  their  last. 

We  miss  those  hours,  when  through  our  hearts  was  stealing 

The  merry  music  of  thy  fairy  feet ; 
We  miss  those  hours,  when  every  pulse  of  feeling 

Thrilled  quick  and  warm  thy  trusting  eyes  to  greet. 

We  miss  our  babe,  when  evening  gathers  round  us ; 

Thy  place  is  vacant  on  thy  mother  s  breast  I 
We  wake  no  more,  to  feel  the  spell  that  bound  us, 

When  once  to  ours,  thy  infant  lips  were  pressed ! 

Where  art  thou  now  7  the  soul  which  once  was  pouring, 
Through  this  cold  dust,  a  warm  and  thrilling  glow, 

Lives  somewhere  yet ;  it  vanished,  heaven-ward  soaring, 
Far  from  all  pain,  or  blight,  or  earthly  woe  1 

Where  dost  thou  dwell?     It  must  be  thou  art  wearing 

A  radiant  light  on  thy  enfranchised  soul ; 
In  some  bright  world  thy  part  with  angels  bearing. 

Where  hymns  of  holy  joy  forever  roll. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  309 

To  that  deep  life,  God's  love  hath  surely  borne  thee, 
Dear  cherished  babe  ! — nor  seek  we  to  reclaim ; 

How  much  we  love,  how  much  we  miss  and  mourn  thee, 
He  knows  alone — and  blessed  be  his  name ! 


THE  MOTHER  TO  HER  SICK  CHILD. 

Sleep  on,  my  boy,  and  o'er  thy  fevered  brow 

May  gentle  angels  keep  their  silent  watch ; 

May  he  who  is  the  Lord  of  angels  bend 

His  pitying  eye,  and  give  thee  soothing  sleep. 

Oh  !  may  he  breathe  around  thy  languid  form 

Benignant  health,  if  such  his  holy  will ; 

Yet  good  that  holy  will,  though  sickness  sore 

Should  linger — even  sickness  unto  death  ! 

My  child,  my  treasure,  I  have  given  thee  up 

To  him  who  gave  thee  me  !     Ere  yet  thine  eye 

Rested  with  conscious  love  upon  thy  mother, 

Long  ere  thy  lips  could  gently  sound  her  name. 

She  gave  thee  up  to  God ;  she  sought  for  thee 

One  boon  alone,  that  thou  might'st  be  his^hild  ; 

His  child  sojourning  on  this  distant  land. 

His  child  above  the  blue  and  radiant  sky. 

'Tis  all  I  ask  for  thee,  belov'd  one,  still. 

Perchance,  in  some  fond  hour,  this  heart  may  wish 

High  intellect  to  beam  around  thy  brow, 

And  all  that  earth  counts  joy  to  tend  thy  steps : 

Perchance  I  wish  thy  bright  blue  eye  may  cheer 

The  remnant  of  my  solitary  path. 

That  I  may  watch  thy  opening  character 

Expanding  like  thy  father's,  bright  and  pure, 

The  Christian,  and  the  scholar ;  yet,  my  boy. 

All  these  fond  wishes  of  thy  mother's  heart 

Are  merged  in  one — that  thou  may'st  be  His  child, 

His  own  devoted  child  to  spread  his  glory ; 

Whether  in  earth's  dark  places  or  on  high. 

In  labours  such  as  holy  angels  knew. 

And  he  will  hear  the  prayer, — He  will  accept 

The  offering,  He  hath  strengthened  me  to  make. 

Even  thus,  of  old,  a  babe  was  offered  up — 

Young  Samuel,  for  the  service  of  his  Temple ;     ..;: 

Nor  he  refused  the  boon,  but  poured  on  him         ■  '^ 


310  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

The  anointing  of  all  gifts  and  graces  meet 
For  his  high  office.     So  may'st  thou,  my  child, 
In  thine  own  humble  sphere,  be  consecrate. 
Sleep  on,  then,  dearest ;  safe  from  peril, — safe, 
Though  sickness  be  thy  lot.     In  life  or  death, 
Be  but  his  arms  around  thee,  thou  art  safe. 
Oh !  it  is  bliss  to  live,  even  on  earth, 
Labouring  for  Him — gathering  His  elect  in, 
From  a  dark  sinful  world,  to  His  fear  fold ! 
And  it  is  bliss  to  die — to  soar  on  wings 
Of  seraph  to  His  bright  celestial  throne ; — 
To  bend,  adoring,  at  the  fount  of  light, — 
To  dwell  for  ever  in  its  blaze  !     My  child, 
This  is  the  blessedness  I  ask  for  thee. 


A  BENEDICTION  FOR  A  BABY. 

BY    JAMES    MONTGOMERY. 

What  blessing  shall  I  ask  for  thee. 

In  the  sweet  dawn  of  infancy  ? 

— That,  Mjiich  our  Saviour,  at  his  birth, 

Brought  down  with  Him  from  heaven  to  earth. 

What  next,  in  childhood's  April  years 
Of  sun-beam  smiles  and  rain-bow  tears? 
— That  which  in  Him  all  eyes  might  trace, 
To  grow  in  wisdom  and  in  grace. 

What  in  the  wayward  path  of  youth. 
Where  falsehood  walks  abroad  as  truth  ? 
— By  that  good  spirit  to  be  led. 
Which  John  saw  resting  on  his  head. 

What,  in  temptation's  wilderness. 
When  wants  assail,  and  fears  oppress? 
— To  wield  like  Him,  the  Scripture-sword, 
And  vanquish  Satan  "  by  the  word." 

What,  in  the  labour,  pain,  and  strife. 
Combats  and  cares  of  daily  life  ? 
— In  his  cross-bearing  steps  to  tread. 
Who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 


SOLACE  FOR  BEREAVED  PARENTS.      311 

What,  in  the  agony  of  heart, 
When  foes  rush  in  and  friends  depart  ? 
— To  pray  like  Him,  the  Holy  One, 
"  Father,  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done." 

What,  in  the  bitterness  of  death, 
When  the  last  sigh  cuts  the  last  breath  ? 
— Like  Him  your  spirit  to  commend, 
And  up  to  paradise  ascend. 

What,  in  the  grave,  and  in  that  hour, 
When  even  the  grave  shall  lose  its  power  ? 
— Like  Him,  your  rest  awhile  to  take ; 
Then  at  the  trumpet's  sound  awake. 
Him  as  He  is  in  heaven  to  see, 
And  as  He  is,  yourself  to  be. 


THE  FATHER  TO  HIS  MOTHERLESS  CHILDREN. 

Come  gather  closer  to  my  side. 

My  little  smitten  flock. 
And  I  will  tell  of  him  who  brought 

Pure  water  from  the  rock : 
Who  boldly  led  God's  people  forth 

From  Egypt's  wrath  and  guile, 
And  once  a  cradled  babe  did  float 

All  helpless  on  the  Nile. 

You're  weary  precious  ones,  your  eyes 

Are  wandering  far  and  wide  ; 
Think  ye  of  her  who  knew  so  well 

Your  tender  thoughts  to  guide  ? 
Who  could  to  wisdom's  sacred  lore 

Your  fixed  attention  claim  ? 
Ah  !  never  from  your  hearts  erase 

That  blessed  mother's  name. 

'Tis  time  to  sing  your  evening  hymn. 

My  youngest  infant  dove  ; 
Come,  press  thy  velvet  cheek  to  mine, 
r  And  learn  the  lay  of  love ; 


312  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS 

'         My  sheltering  arms  can  clasp  you  all, 
My  poor  deserted  throng ; 
Cling  as  you  used  to  cling  to  her 
Who  sings  the  angel's  song. 

Begin,  sweet  birds,  the  accustomed  strain, 

Come,  warble  loud  and  clear ; 
Alas,  alas,  you're  weeping  all. 

You're  sobbing  in  my  ear : 
Good-night :  go,  say  the  prayer  she  taught, 

Beside  your  little  bed, 
The  lips  that  used  to  bless  you  there, 

Are  silent  with  the  dead. 

A  father's  hand  your  course  may  guide 

Amid  the  storms  of  life, 
His  care  protect  those  shrinking  plants 

That  dread  the  storm  of  strife : 
But  who,  upon  your  infant  hearts, 

Shall  like  that  mother  write? 
Who  touch  the  strings  that  rule  the  soul  ? 

Dear  smitten  flock,  good  night ! 

L.  H. 


BAPTISM  AT  THE  COFFIN'S  HEAD. 

"  Agreeably  to  her  request,  her  little  babe  was  bap 
tized  at  the  head  of  the  coffin  of  its  mother." — Obitu- 
ary of  Mrs.  E.  R.  L.  Dowse,  {consort  of  Rev.  Ed- 
mund  Dowse  of  Sherburne,  Mass.,)  in  N.  E,  Puritan^ 
of  July  14,  1842. 

LiETH  here  beneath  her  shroud, 
Like  a  star  beneath  a  cloud,  •  i  '....^ 
She,  of  whom  our  love  was  proud. 

Common  mourners  are  not  here ; 
Sorrow,  bending  o'er  this  bier, 
Drops  no  inexpressive  tear. 

Kind,  consistent,  earnest  one  ; 
Active,  all  her  labour  done  ; 
Ripe  for  summons  to  the  Son. 


SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS.  313 

Meek  in  her  allotted  place  ; 
Panting  for  and  finding  grace ; 
Winner  in  the  Christian  race. 

Giving  life,  she  yielded  life ; 
Sharp  the  struggle,  sore  the  strife, — 
Quick,  yet  keen,  the  severing  knife. 

In  the  matron's  modest  bloom, 
Just  a  mother — to  the  tomb 
Sunk  she  by  untimely  doom. 

Just  allowed  earth's  purest  bliss, 
Just  allowed  her  bud  to  kiss 
Ere  she  perished ;  anguish  this ! 

"  Perished  ?" — No  ! — from  this  terrene 
Borne  by  angels  she  is  seen ; 
God  beholds  the  evergreen  ! 

Stay  awhile  the  funeral  stave  ! 
Stay,  ere  the  insatiate  grave 
Takes  the  lovely  dust  it  gave. 

Stay  ! — for  so  she  bade  us — till 
We  perform  her  dying  will; 
Ere  the  waiting  grave  ye  fill ! 

Bring  the  precious,  fatal  gift ! 
Heart !  thy  inner  purpose  sift, 
While  the  fervent  prayer  we  lift. 

Meet  it  is  in  truthful  prayer, 
Thus  to  God  our  grief  and  care 
To  commit,  and  leave  them  there. 

Meet  it  is  when  mothers  go, 
Thus  the  orphans  to  bestow 
On  His  heart  who  loves  them  so ! 

Bring  it  to  the  CofRn's  Head  ! 
Kneel,  while  solemn  word  is  said 
In  the  presence  of  the  Dead  I 
27 


314  SOLACE    FOR    BEREAVED    PARENTS. 

Though  her  little  babe  is  nigh, 
From  that  bosom  where  'twould  lie, 
Comes  not  the  maternal  sigh. 

Beckon  not  the  sheltering  arms 
To  protect  it  from  alarms ; 
Speaketh  not  the  voice  that  calms. 

Ah  !  that  stream  of  life  is  dried, 
Which  those  tiny  lips  supplied; 
Ah  !  a  mother's  breast  denied  ! 

Peaceful  doth  that  mother  lie, 
Closed  affection's  ear  and  eye ; 
Heedless  of  her  baby's  cry, 

Water — of  blest  purity 
Emblem — do  we  pour  on  thee; 
Little  one  !  regenerate  be — 

Only  by  the  crimson  flood 
Of  the  Spotless ;  in  the  blood 
Of  the  very  Son  of  God  ! 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 
Take  the  feeble,  take  the  lost, 
Purchased,  once,  at  Calvary's  cost. 

Onward  ! — we  have  holy  joy 
Breaking  on  our  sad  employ; 
Dea*h  !  thou  canst  not  these  destroy. 

Wm.  B.  Tappan. 


^^ 


